#they still suck and I bet they sucked even worse before that!!

[six-demon-bag]

once again i have been attacked by the “but you haven’t tried these” brussel sprouts brigade

i fucking hate brussel sprouts there is nothing you can do to those horrid little cabbages to change that, end of story

[omgeto]

☆ THREE ISN'T A CROWD — SATORU & SUGURU

summary: your best friends, geto and gojo, rail you in a hotel bed. that's it. that's the fic.

cw: afab!reader, finger fucking, unprotected sex, double penetration so mdni !!

an: I wrote this whilst drinking a big fat cup of tea, and eating a packet of stale biscuits. so no angsty romance today, just two besties appreciating you in their own special way. it is 5:40 am so I did not proof read this so ignore mistakes pls <;33

gojo and geto were mischievous on their own accords – but when together it was worse. so when you were sandwiched between them in your hotel room, since of course there was only one bed, you weren’t even surprised.

“this is not fair,” gojo mumbles, his lips curling into a mock pout as he exhales a huff of air. 

“oh don’t be a baby,” geto scolds, with a chuckle . gojo and geto bickered over who got to sleep where and after a lengthy game of rock paper scissors – it was gojo who had to face the wall. “you’ll get your turn soon.” you could feel geto’s breath on your neck as he was placed firmly behind you, his hands stuffed in your pants as his fingers caress your wet slit. 

“don’t be mean sugu,” you chastise, your hand trailing up gojo's back to his shoulder to turn him over, facing you, “there’s enough of me to go around.” gojo is needy, pressing a feverish kiss to your lips, wanting to taste all of you.

gojo didn’t think his plan would work, when he proposed it to geto he was swift in his agreement — the only thing left was you. their pretty little best friend. who they've both wanted a piece of, for years.

now that he’s got you, he couldn’t contain himself – if he wasn’t careful he knew he’d be cumming in his boxers too soon. he latches onto your neck sucking and biting his hands grabbing onto your tits, tweaking and pinching at your nipples.

“you’re hogging her,” gojo complains, as his fingers slip down to your cunt. geto adds another finger spreading your lips wider as gojo’s forces his fingers into you. they were both rubbing your pussy. your wetness making it easier for gojo to piston in and out of you and for geto to stroke and flick against your clit with his thumb.

“g-guys fuck, you’re both too much,” you whimper,  your hips thrusting towards gojo, slotting onto his fingers further. geto’s slides his tongue from your collar bone to your jaw before his hand grips onto it, his lips remain at your ears as he whispers, “you gonna cum for us baby?”

“yeah c’mon make a mess for us,” gojo adds, continuing his pattern of rubs and pushes in your pussy, its almost as if he’s committed the rhythm to memory. he was effortless in working with geto, both aiding each other to help you reach your climax. geto pinches your clint, hard, and you spray both of their hands with your cum – squirting all over them.

gojo’s eyes widen at the sight, “shit, i didn’t know you could do that” he exclaims, taking his fingers out of you, examining them as they glisten with your juices, “suguru, did she know that she could do that?”

geto ignores him, rolling his eyes at his friends over excitement, “wanna be wowed even further, taste her, i bet she’s sweet.” before gojo could comply you take his fingers in your mouth, practically choking on them as you suck off all your juices. 

“you taste good don’t you?” geto muses, pressing a kiss to your neck, you nod dumbly as you lock eyes with gojo still nibbling on his fingers. 

“hey suguru, can we try something with her,” gojo proposes, and geto nods, prompting him to continue, “i wanna stuff her. i want both of us to stuff her. 

“we can make that happen, can't we?” geto smirks, rubbing on your ass giving it a light smack, “come sit on my dick, i’ll take of you.”

“what about me?” gojo whines, groaning as you're pulled away from him and on top of geto. 

“you’ll get yours in due time, satoru,” geto scolds, taking out his dick giving it some light pumps before rubbing it across your slit. you force yourself down on him, your hands clawing at his chest as you push it down. you were already gushing at the feeling of geto inside of you, filling you whole. so the idea of having them both in you had you excited, grinding down onto geto’s dick as hard as he was thrusting into you.

“are you seeing this?” geto asks gojo, gesturing to the way your head was thrown back and your lips were clenched in your teeth, “the way our pretty friend here is all strung out on my dick?”

gojo’s eyes were focused on the way you bounced repeatedly on his best friends dick, furiously pumping his as the sight. the way your grabbed your tits and played with your nipples, moaning to the beat of geto’s thrusts, he knew he needed to be inside of you. 

he gets out of the bed, coming to kneel behind you, peppering kisses along your spine. “i think theres room for me, isn’t there?” he jests, slightly pushing you forward, eyeing the way geto’s dick slides in and out of you. 

you take a shark inhale at the feeling of gojo entering you, “you’re good,” geto reassures, “you can take us.” and you moan as you get used to the feeling of the both of them, their dicks rubbing together as they drive into you, instantly finding a rhythm. 

“you feel so fuckin’ good, w-way too good,” gojo moans, holds you from behind, his chest presses against your back, his hands cupping your boobs as his head rests on your shoulders. 

“‘m close,” geto mutters, smirking at the sight of you, the feeling of you. “you gonna let us cum inside of you? really keep you filled up.” you moan out in agreement, your head felt so foggy with the feeling of them both charging into you. geto gives gojo a knowing smile, and as if on cue, they both load into you showering you with their cum. you finish at the same as them with a high pitched moan, releasing onto them, feeling stuffed with all their cum, and yours, resting inside of you.

“now that,” gojo pulls out of you, pressing an appreciative kiss on the corner of your lips before collapsing on the bed with a blissful smile, “was fucking magical.”

“yeah i guess it was good,” geto chuckles, still inside of you, kissing you on your forehead, his hand slinging over your ass, as you slump on top of him, “how are you feeling?”

“you two are exhausting,” you joke with a smile, “but i can see why i kept you around as my friends.” although this was something that you yourself didn’t plan, you weren’t gonna deny that being freshly fucked and laid up with your two best friends wasn’t all that bad.

AN: I think you can see my heavy bias for geto come thru in this fic but oh well DIVIDERS BY @/CAFEKITSUNE I wrote this more for time than anyone else tbf BUT TELL ME WHAT U THINK since I am iffy on my smut skills

[pirateprincessblog]

prefects and t(h)reats

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: you haven't been lurking the castle at night since the day you cost your house a lot of points and the slytherin prefect scolded you. long enough has passed, and you might want to start doing that again. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: park seonghwa x f!reader 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.6k words 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: harry potter universe, slytherin!seonghwa, hufflepuff!reader, smut, bit of angst (seonghwa being a piece of shit(basic slytherin) towards the reader and her friends) 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: spanking, hair pulling, choking, finger sucking, fingering, oral (f!receiving), voyeurism, unprotected sex, semi-public?

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: idk, cursing i guess 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: something got fucked in the process of posting this so if you see any repeating paragraphs do let me know my eyes aren't working anymore :D !everyone is of age, regardless of the year they are in. also, i may or may not have a finger sucking kink or whatever you call that :) also, i so did NOT use a twd negan reference here. just ignore that.

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲.

"ugh! that snape will be the reason i get sent to azkaban, mark my words! i spent ages trying to perfect that mood colour changing sweater, and he just confiscated- wait, what?"

"what, what is it?"

"did our bloody house points get deducted again?"

just your luck, you need to pass by them to get to your next class. you wish you had perfected the disillusionment charm, it would be very helpful right now.

"you."

ignoring the voice that speaks clearly to you, you hug your books to your chest and quicken your pace, attempting to ascend the stone stairs and vanish into the divination classroom. suddenly, your elbows are seized by two familiar pairs of hands, drawing you back to stand before the house points display. indeed, the hourglass under the hufflepuff banner is noticeably less full than it was just the day before. and it may or may not be your fault. again.

"listen to me, honeydukes." wayne, your fellow housemate warns.

"don't call me that!" you still struggle to understand how you acquired that nickname, especially since you rarely visit honeydukes these days. that habit faded after your teeth nearly succumbed to decay from all the cotton candy and chocolate frogs.

"if you keep this up, you are going to be the reason i end up in azkaban. got it?" he points a finger at your face, causing you to stumble back.

"you have a week to get at least twenty points back. if you don't..." the other one, justin, also points his finger at you, "...i'll make your remaining years at hogwarts miserable. we are the lousiest house anyway, why do you have to make it worse?"

"yeah, what do you even do to make us lose house points?"

"i bet she pisses off prefects."

"or bothers professors outside the class, the know-it-all."

"i don't care if you have to duel harry potter himself, you'll get those points back."

"and when you do, you'll get double and triple that, and make sure we win this year."

"it is only fair, since you're costing us so much."

with each accusation hurled at you, you retreat, hoping to flee the verbal attack before tears betray you and worsen the situation. a high pitched noise invades your ears, drowning out their voices. so intent on avoiding their accusing fingers, you fail to notice the brink of the top stair until your foot falters and balance is lost. you gasp, eyes shut, bracing for the impact of cold stone against your skull.

"levioso!"

yet it never comes. your body is stuck in the air, right above the stairs. all the noise and fuss has left the main hall, resulting in you being too scared to open your eyes.

"accio."

but you are forced to open them, ears picking up quiet murmuring, mainly coming from girls. your eyes meet dark brown ones, stone cold with a serious expression. his black swirly wand is directed at you, levitating your body through the air until you're brought back to the top of the stairs. you finally regain control of it, hands hurriedly fixing the robe and covering yourself.

"you fools." he speaks, eyes not leaving yours.

your lip trembles, and eyes well up with tears. park seonghwa is the one person you do not wish to anger and disappoint. your admiration for him hasn't stopped growing since the day he came to this school. park seonghwa, the slytherin prince. slender frame, porcelain skin, high cheekbones, sharp jawline, plump lips, dark eyes, and an immpeccable posture. he walked the castle with such grace, his cloak following him and flowing in the air behind him. whether it was magic or not, you found yourself utterly captivated, not just by his cloak, but by his very essence. he was, in a word, beautiful.

"i'm- i'm sorry-" you stutter, the sentence not yet formed in your brain. is this really how your first encounter with him will go?

"you absolute fools." he turns around, facing the two boys.

wayne and justin are now the ones stumbling back, audibly gulping. "we're sorry, seonghwa."

"all that over house points?" seonghwa scoffs in disbelief, "well, guess what? you just cost your own house fifty points."

the entire great hall gasps, not used to seeing the prefect this enraged and stern. he avoids public confrontations, curious eyes and gossipy mouths, always opting to pull the troublemakers aside to scold them. he also mostly deducts five points, ten at most. but fifty?

"show is over. go to your classes." he orders to the crowd, and they waste no time in continuing their journey to their classrooms.

overwhelmed by the unfolding situation, you find yourself unable to move. your gaze fixes on seonghwa's polished black shoes, unsure of your next action or words. your first encounter with him wasn't supposed to unfold this way. you intended to sweep him off his feet, exuding confidence and the like. embarrassing yourself and struggling to hold back tears while avoiding his gaze was never in the plan.

"hey, honeydukes. are you alright?"

"i'm fi- honeydukes?" you look at him, brows furrowed. "you know about that nickname?"

he tilts his head, chuckling. "i gave you that nickname."

"you... you gave me that nickname?! do you have any idea how freaking annoying it is..."

"okay, calm down now."

"...to be called that all day every day? even when i've stopped visiting that bloody shop..."

"listen to me."

"...it's haunting me! how dare you?!"

your protest is silenced as he steps closer, cradling your jaw in the palm of his hand to lift your face towards his. the way his dark eyes look down on you makes you feel small and fragile, only being safe because he's holding you. you swallow hard, lips pressed tightly together, not yet trusting yourself to speak.

"i gave you that nickname when i first saw you. in hogsmeade, at honeydukes. i had never seen anyone eat cotton candy so cutely, and nobody would tell me your name until recently i heard it myself. so you became honeydukes. not my fault the rest heard it from me and decided to make their own version of it."

"still..." you are stubborn, not willing to let go so easily.

"tell you what..." he reaches into his pocket, taking out something shiny. you notice it is one of those wrapped chocolate balls, and coincidentally your favorite flavour. "accept this as an apology, and stop sneaking around the library at night. you're going to cost your house more points. and us prefects our sanity."

"a candy? you're bribing me?" you scoff.

he chuckles, then puts one end of the wrapper between his pearly white teeth, while his other hand still holds your jaw. he tugs at the opposite end of the wrapper, loosening it and making the treat more accessible. letting the wrapper drop to the ground, the shiny chocolate appears all the more enticing between his slender fingers.

"open up for me."

lips slowly peeling open, you allow his slender fingers to slip past them and place the treat on your tongue.

"that's a good girl." he purrs, eyes focused on the way your tongue swirls around the chocolate and his fingers. he takes them out, and catching you by surprise, puts them inside his mouth. "well, then. you better get to class."

you nod, gulping and hugging your books to your chest. not knowing what to say to that, or what to say at all, you turn around, ready to get to your next class. but he stops you once again, playfulness evident in his voice.

"and i mean it. stop sneaking around the castle at night. not that i hate other forms of punishment, i don't think it's something you'd enjoy. besides, you need sleep, especially with the upcoming exams."

"okay."

"what? didn't quite catch that."

"yes, sir!" you yell, annoyed and already running up the stairs, almost tripping on your cloak.

"atta girl." seonghwa smiles proudly, walking in the direction of his next class.

you used to love hogsmeade. then you hated it. now, you love it again. winter has wrapped the village in a festive mood, with christmas just around the corner. streets are dripping with decorations, lights and christmas trees. enchanted instruments are singing songs on the street, people are rushing to buy presents already, and hermione and ron are bickering as always. harry walks by your side, mesmerized by the amount of lights decorating the balconies of the villagers.

"we always go get stupid butterbeers. let's try something else for once!" the girl complains, growing sick of the habit the four of you have formed when arriving at hogsmeade.

"yes, but... it's butterbeer. what else is there to try?" the ginger says, opting for the simple routine.

"merlin, i don't know! just- ugh. what do you say, honeydukes?"

ever since you told them about the incident at the great hall, they've called you nothing but that. you don't hate it anymore. if anything, it reminds you of the slytherin prefect every time you are called. and you don't hate that either.

"i think..." just as you are about to agree with hermione, your eyes notice a group of slytherins entering the three broomsticks. thus, "...ron is right. i mean, butterbeer is butterbeer."

"so bland. fine, let's go."

upon entering, you realize that you have to fight your way to the seats. it is crowded, as though all of hogwarts has chosen the same time and place for drinks. ron is stubborn, tugging hermione, who tugs you, who tugs harry. the wizard chain somehow makes it through the singing and dancing crowd, reaching the end of the tavern and big table where you usually sit. only to find the place occupied.

"hey, that's our seats!" ron complains, pointing at the slytherin boys.

"oh, no. how dare they take our unassigned assigned seats?" the girl rolls her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest.

"go on, honeydukes. say something."

you look at the boy who remained silent until now, confused. "me? why me?"

"well, it's your little boyfriend sitting there. maybe he'll listen to you."

"harry-!" before you can protest, you are nudged in front of the table, prompting all the boys at the table to halt their conversation and turn their heads to look at you. seonghwa raises an eyebrow, amused.

"what is it, half blood?" draco snickers, glancing over at seonghwa for approval. but when seonghwa doesn't acknowledge him, he settles down, hiding behind his half full glass of butterbeer.

"uh, my friends and i... we were just wondering..." you look behind at the three of them, who stand waiting politely as if you were their mother arranging a play date. "...if you could scoot over and let us have one side of the table? since it is a sharing table... and there's only four of us... and four of you. or not. i mean, if you want to. if you don't, that's fine. i'm not ordering you, i'm just... actually, we don't need it. sorry for bothering you. we'll leave now."

you turn around, cheeks and tips of ears ablaze with embarrassment. the trio looks at you with mouths open wide, wondering just what the hell happened to you.

"what the bloody hell was that?" ron says, eyebrows furrowed.

"i-"

"honeydukes?"

your body responds to his voice immediately, turning around and eyes locking into his. he smiles at you, then waves towards the seats that are now empty.

"ah, sweet!" harry cheers, and the two boys throw their belongings on the chairs and rush to the bar to order.

hermione takes a seat first, choosing a spot as far from them as possible. this leaves you with only one option: the chair next to blaise zabini, the boy who, after Seonghwa and Draco, had the most admirers. he doesn't acknowledge you, nor does anyone else, until you start gossiping with hermione and she abruptly stops mid-sentence.

"he's looking at you."

"what? who is?" your head starts to turn itself before thinking, but hermione is quick to slap your arm. "ow!"

"don't look! that prefect, seonghwa. he's looking at you so intensely. it's scary."

"like, scary scary or hot kinda scary?"

"well, i-" she stutters, not yet used to being this open with anyone yet. "the latter."

the boys arrive, ron holding the drinks and harry holding bowls of snacks. they almost throw them on the table, and ron doesn't even wait to sit before taking a big sip of his drink. harry digs into his loaded chips, not intending on offering anyone a bite or two.

the conversation at the other end of the table ceases, causing ron to set his glass down and harry to stop trying to fit the entire bowl into his cheeks. you look at both ends, the situation looking funny, especially with hermione looking embarrassed next to you. the slytherin boys exude sophistication, taking delicate sips of their drinks, sharing a bowl of spicy chili treats, conversing in hushed tones, and maintaining an overall neat and respectful demeanor. the gryffindor boys are a complete contrast; ron with his butterbeer moustache, harry with sauce smeared on his cheek, both flushed and almost reeking of sweat already.

"wufnt sum?" harry says with his mouth full, nudging his half empty bowl towards the other group.

they all look at the prefect, as if he decides whether they can have some or not. "no, thank you, potter. you seem to be enjoying it too much for me to take it away from you. i'd feel bad."

 the groups snickers, and something twitches inside of you. seeing the prefect's cocky and arrogant smile, your interest in him falters. he's no longer looking at you, not even sparing you glances. entertaining his group and bullying the gryffindor boys seemed to be way more interesting. and you've had enough of it.

"so... nice moustache weasley."

"right, we get it." you almost yell, causing them to stop and turn their heads at you. "you're all so smart, and perfect, and purebloods, and we are just laughing stock. i don't need to listen to this, and neither do they."

"oh, feisty." draco comments, earning a glare from seonghwa.

"right, honeydukes. i apologize for my behaviour." the dark haired slytherin smiles at you, but your face stays the same.

"it's not me you should be apologizing to."

"are you dense? how dare you talk to him like that?" the young boy doesn't give up, wanting to fight you no matter what.

"malfoy, sit back." seonghwa says, putting a hand on draco's chest. "potter, weasley. i apologize for my comments."

"'s alright."

"yeah, no worries." they mumble, gazes locked on the table.

awkward silence swallows your corner of the tavern, with the people only staring at the middle of the table and only breathing. seonghwa then slides the untouched bowl of chili treats in the middle, causing the group to look at him.

"how about a game? you know, that muggle one, never have i ever? for each thing that you did, you need to eat a handful of these. you in, gryffindor?"

eager to prove themselves, they straighten their clothes and backs, and focus. hermione sits back, arms stubbornly crossed over her chest. ron nudges her with his elbow, and she rolls her eyes and joins in.

"hufflepuff?" the dark eyed boy tilts his head.

"sure, whatever."

"alright, then. game on."

it starts with innocent questions, such as cheating on exams and gossips. then, it progressively gets more serious and more...

"never have i ever made out with someone in the astronomy tower?"

sexual.

you are not shocked to see that blaise and seonghwa are taking a handful of the spicy treats, but your jaw drops when ron and hermione do the same, exchanging a single glance before blushing and shoving the handful in their mouths. harry shares his surprise with you, jaw equally hanging.

"well, well. little miss granger." seonghwa teases. "good job, ron boy."

"never have i ever... done more than dry humping in an empty owlery?" harry surprises the table with his question.

"what?! you've done that?!" hermione is almost in his face, surprised how she didn't know this about her best friend.

"i might've..." the chosen one smiles, wasting no time in burning his tongue with the treats once again.

your side of the table seems to retreat after that question, the slytherin boys asking about things you didn't ever think of. things that would have dubmbledore kick you out of the school, through the very same astronomy tower everyone seems to mention. the game eventually grows into a conversation, discussing who their favorite partner was, what their most risky situation was, and who they have an eye on recently.

"what about you, honeydukes?" blaise asks, using seonghwa's nickname for you. it just doesn't hit the same.

"what about me?"

"nothing to share? no risky business, no partners, no bad sexual experiences? i mean, have you had any experience at all?"

"of course i have. i'm not a virgin, if that's what you're implying. i've had more bad ones than good ones. having me jerk someone off under the desk while learning about amortentia wasn't exactly my cup of tea."

"oh, you poor thing." draco coos, mockingly.

they all eventually let go, and when you realize that seonghwa hasn't made a comment about you in a while, you look at him. he is already observing you, his expression unreadable. his eyes roam your face, then your hair, and finally your clothes. you feel small under his intense gaze, and you find yourself squirming on the wooden chair. when his eyes catch yours, he blinks, then looks away.

after a morning of intense studying, practicing flying, and rushing to hogsmeade for potions supplies for the exam tomorrow, you end up sleeping the entire afternoon. when you wake up, it is dark. you hate wasting days, especially because winter ones are so short. you haven't done anything fun for yourself these few weeks, only studying and avoiding the slytherin prefect.

he might've noticed, or perhaps not. you've noticed a few glances here and there, but the hogsmeade encounter made your feelings for him fade. it wasn't a major crush after all, just simple admiration. maybe liking. regardless, he doesn't get in your way. meaning, it might be safe to have one of those late night adventures through the castle. your disillusionment charm has improved, and you'll finally put it to good use.

wearing nothing but your yellow sleeping attire, you slip out of the dormitory and head to the library. the ghosts don't bother you, even if you didn't cast the charm yet. they must've found another victim, especially peeves. that bastard.

no prefect in sight either, which makes you wonder if you're really being that subtle and successful in your late night escapade. perhaps they're toying with you, letting you reach the doors of the library just to stop you and punish you.

yet, it doesn't happen. not when you reach the door, not when you slip past them, and not when you reach the restricted section.

"lumos." you chant, then put the handle of the wand between your teeth so you can see the shelves better.

how sad, you think, sneaking out at night only to come to a library.

mid book browsing, you hear footsteps. hurriedly twirling your wand around yourself, you cast the charm, and crouch.

"nox," you whisper, the wand no longer emitting light from its tip.

the footsteps get closer, with faint whistling being heard. whoever it is, they're either completely oblivious, or they're just keeping you at the edge before revealing themselves.

"little pig, little pig..." the voice sings, and you gasp.

the slytherin prince himself roams the library's forbidden section, each footstep sounding closer to you. you get on your hands and knees, crawling among the shelves in search for a way out. but from this perspective, everything looks different. after all, this isn't your usual view.

"let," step, "me," step, "in."

a hand grabs your hair from behind, pulling your head back just enough to make you yelp. the disillusionment charm wears off, and you groan, defeated.

"well, well. if it isn't the innocent little hufflepuff. no wonder i've been craving sweet since i entered the library."

"will you let go of me?"

"oh, sure thing." he softens his grip, giving you just a taste of freedom before yanking your head again, "what's the magic word? you know, that muggle one?"

"please, please!" you yelp, hands wrapping around his wrist in hopes of convincing him to let go.

he does, then steps back to give you space so you can get up. fixing your sleepwear, you fail to see his amused grin as he stares at you. when you finally look up at him, he has his usual prefect serious face on.

"now, what do you have to say for yourself?"

"sorry, it won't happen again." you should tattoo that on yourself next time you're in muggle world, it comes like a good morning to you. "i'll see myself out."

"oh, no, no." the man stops you, grabbing your elbow. "you don't get away with a sorry. not anymore. remember what i said last time?"

"uh... something about different forms of punishment?" you remember.

"that's right. good girl." his voice seems to drop a few octaves, causing you to subconsciously squeeze your thighs together. "now, how many?"

"what?"

"how many?"

"how many what?"

"spanks, sweetheart."

"you're-" you choke on your spit, "you're going to spank me?"

"oh, would you rather lose points? again?" he tilts his head, fake worry painted on his features.

"well, no, but-"

"deducting points doesn't seem to work on you anyways. i'll have to try a different approach. usually works." he steps towards you, making you step back.

"usually? you uh... you spank other people?" you dare ask.

"why?" he continues his slow steps.

"just asking."

"jealous?"

"why would i be?"

"i don't know." he shrugs, then looks around checking for intruders. "a little bird told me you have a crush on me."

your back hits the shelves, and you gasp. he stops in front of you, still maintaining a small distance. you stutter, not knowing what to say. do you have a crush on him?

"i certainly don't."

"oh." he furrows his eyebrows, "you sure?"

"yes." your voice comes out raspy, and you clear your throat. "yes, absolutely."

"honeydukes?"

"yes?"

"are you trying to convince yourself, or me?"

"i don't have a crush on you, seonghwa." you try to sound as convincing as possible.

"good. then, this interaction won't have any side effects besides teaching you a lesson. now, how many?"

you want to say a small number, like two or three. but if it happens to feel good, you won't have the guts to ask for more. oh how foolish, how can spanking be good?

"tick-tock, hufflepuff. if you don't decide, i will for you. and trust me, you do not want that."

he isn't touching you, hell, he isn't even looking at you. yet he has power over you like nobody ever had before, making you stand still against the bookshelves and wait for his instructions.

"ten," you simply say.

"ten? not one, two?" seonghwa is surprised with your answer, figuring you'd choose a smaller number.

"i didn't think you'd accept one or two. or would you?"

"smart girl. no, i wouldn't. now, what was your favorite subject again? charms, herbology?"

"dark arts," you reply, catching him off guard once again. of course he didn't see it coming. you're sneaking out to go to a library, you're a hufflepuff for merlin's sake, and you stand here in front of him, looking up at him with those wide innocent eyes of yours. who would guess dark arts?

"well, then," he swirls his black wand around both of you, turning you invisible once again, "lead the way, honeydukes."

and you do, having him follow you all the way to the defence against the dark arts classroom. you'd be lying if you said nervous sweat hasn't washed you over three times by the time you reach it. when the door closes, it's like time stops. this is it.

"won't umbridge hear? what if she's still in her office?" you whisper.

"muffliato." he simply casts, sparks flying between the desks, up the staircase at the end of the classroom, and through the doors of umbridge's office. "go on."

you keep walking, all the way to her desk. seonghwa plunges on the comfy professor's chair, then motioned for you to step closer. you barely step close to him, and he pushes you over his lap, causing you to squeak unintentionally. you hold onto his thigh, the position not the most comfortable one.

"count." the slytherin prefect demands.

his big hand lands on your bottom, making you jolt. "one."

his other hand rests on the small of your back, keeping you still so you stop squirming. only three more spanks later, you're already shuffling uncomfortably.

"two, three, four," you say, voice slowly cracking.

"but i'm barely halfway there yet, my hufflepuff princess. don't break on me just yet." he coos, voice soft and comforting, a great contrast to his actions.

you sniff, hand hurriedly wiping a tear that threatened to escape. seonghwa doesn't halt, even if he saw that. instead, he spanks you harder and harder, sparing no inch of your skin of the burning sensation.

"five, six, seven." you shudder, bracing yourself for more. only three more.

"almost there, sweetheart. you're doing so good for me." his other hand caresses your hair, removing it from your face and letting it fall aside. seeing you all teared up and flushed, something new sparks inside of him. "so pretty."

he can't help himself, his hand abusing your sore bottom, exceeding the amount that you both agreed on. you keep counting, not asking him to stop. he lands a final one, deciding it is enough once you let out the first cry.

"t-twenty," you sob, hiding your face in his black slacks.

when his hand touches your bottom again, you expect it to be another hit. instead, his hand caresses it, helping to soothe the pain. it lasts mere seconds, before you feel him raise the top of your pajama, then pull on the bottom. he exposes your red bottom to the cool classroom air, and you can't help but whine at the loss of contact.

"you did so good, my love." seonghwa coos, fingers running through your hair as he waits for you to collect yourself.

once you do, you realize that the burning sensation isn't only on your butt cheeks. you also feel it between your legs, briefs soaked with arousal.

"did you learn the lesson?" his hand finds its spot under your chin, raising your head so he can look at you properly.

"yes." you say, failing to maintain eye-contact with him. maybe it's the guilt, or maybe simply the way he looks at you. either way, you opt to stare at his perfectly ironed and buttoned up prefect attire.

"want me to make it feel better?"

you shrug, not quite sure what you wanted anyway. his hand slips from under your chin to your neck, catching you off guard, his fingers squeezing the sides of it. he presses lightly into your skin, the other hand adjusting your bottom so that it is higher up and your core easily accessible. a moan escapes your lips, feeling his digits find your clit so easily.

"oh, you poor thing. you're absolutely soaked. is that why you're crying? not from the pain, but from lack of attention?"

when you don't reply, he only chuckles, pressing into your neck more.

"i'll take good care of you, honeydukes."

he moves your briefs aside, digits circling your clit softly, before slipping into your aching hole. you bite into the fabric of his pants, but he stops you, instead offering his finger to bite on. he still holds onto your neck with his thumb and the rest of the fingers, his index finger popped into your mouth to muffle any noise you have to offer him.

hearing your own hole squelch as his fingers pump in and out of you makes a new rush of arousal wash over your folds. his fingers are long, very long. he curves them, spreads them, then removes them from your hole, only to spread your slick all over your clit and abuse it.

you're a drooling mess on his lap, eyes turning back at the pure pleasure he is gracing you with. your hips hopelessly push back, looking for anything to fill you up. he notices, removing his hand from your core, before standing you up and pushing you to sit on the desk. with a single motion, he shreds your briefs to bits, stuffing them into his pocket and attaching his mouth to your aching core.

you fall back on the desk, head hanging from it and overlooking the empty classroom. your brain creates various images for you as seonghwa's hot tongue swipes across your folds, imagining the classroom full of students as seonghwa feasts on you in front of them. were you weird for that?

"not at all, princess."

"stop reading my mind, prefect." you tug on his hair, a form of punishment for intruding your thoughts.

"can't help it, not when you're dripping all over my face."

his fingers find their way into your clenching hole again, curling upwards and finding a spot nobody ever had before. a moan escapes you, echoing through the classroom, and your other hand pushes seonghwa's head further into your cunt.

he chuckles against you, his own hands holding your thighs so you don't suffocate him. you feel yourself inching closer, hips desperately grinding on his mouth and nose, eager to feel a proper orgasm. he pulls away once again, making you whine and groan.

"my, i've spoiled you." he raises an eyebrow, amused at the glares you're sending him. he stands up, working on his zipper. he doesn't take his pants off, deciding to keep his prefect uniform on. it only makes the situation hotter, your brain finally realizing just what you're doing.

you're messing with a prefect, in the middle of the night, in a classroom, right under a professor's nose.

"kiss me." you ask, voice small. red paints your cheeks; you wanted to sound more confident than that.

"you want to taste yourself on my tongue, princess?"

"yes, please."

"since you asked so nicely."

he helps you stand again, hands firm on your waist, and lips finally attached to yours. your arms wrap around his neck, hungrily bringing his body closer to yours. you indeed taste yourself on his tongue, seonghwa not wasting a second in pushing through your soft lips in search for your hot muscle. the sound of kissing echoes in the classroom, the setting hotter than your wildest dreams. seonghwa is a dreamy kisser, making you feel wanted, hot and appreciated at the same time. his lips never leave yours, not even when your fingers tangle in his hair and pull at it with ecstasy. he only moans softly into your mouth, giving you a wave of confidence.

your hand slides down his chest, to the button of his pants, and finally to the zipper. you reach into it, pulling his hard cock out, before giving it a few slow pumps. he sighs into your lips, pulling away for a few moments. his forehead rests against yours, his body falling in control of your one hand. your thumb swipes over the tip, collecting the slick and spreading it over him. his hips rock with your hand, whines and moans deliciously filling your ears. it feels powerful to have him tremble in your hands, desperate and yearning for your touch and attention. this must be what he feels on a daily basis. and it must feel fucking amazing.

"you're full of surprises, aren't you?" he teases, and you tease back by squeezing his cock. he gasps, but chuckles regardless. "you're just a little brat, waiting to be stuffed like a bad girl. i know it."

with a swift motion, seonghwa turns you around, your still clothed tits pressing against the hard wooden desk and head pushed on the side. he slides into you without warning or teasing, so easily and perfectly. he wastes no time in holding your hips still, smashing his own into you and burying his cock deep in your hole. your walls swallow each inch he offers you, having both of you moan and groan at the pleasure.

"fuck-" he curses, eyes planted on the place where the two of you connect. "fuck, honeydukes- you're going to be the death of me."

"do you- ah!" he snaps his hips into yours once again, each thrust more forceful than the other, "do you do this with others sneaking out at night?"

"i knew you were jealous. so you do have a little crush on me?" he chuckles breathlessly.

"maybe. and maybe." you groan, hands gripping the edges of the desk.

"no, baby. i don't. you're the only one whose cunt i'm going to fill up, again and again. until you've learned your lesson properly."

it is your turn to chuckle now. "if this is your form of punishment, i might start sneaking around while you're on duty more often."

"oh, my hufflepuff princess. if you want me, you can have me any time you want. all day, every day. all you have to do is ask."

the conversation stops, as do his hips, when the doors on top of the stairs open.

"who's there?"

you try looking back at seonghwa, eyes full of fear. his cock twitches in your hole, the riskiness of the situation arousing to him.

"hush, love." he whispers, hand pushing your head down against the cold wood again.

his hips start moving gently, slowly stretching your hole again. you're in shock, not believing that he'd actually continue as the professor walks down the stairs in her own sleeping attire. her eyes skim over the room, trying to find anything unusual. but the silencing spell seems to be working, just like the disillusionment one, making umbridge unaware of your presence. a very... lewd presence.

"merlin, i can't take it anymore. i'm sorry, love."

not giving you a chance to ask why he's apologizing, you soon learn as his hand pulls your hair back and his other one grips your bruised bottom. his hips snap into yours with speed and accuracy, hitting the right spots and bringing you closer to release.

"seonghwa-" you moan.

"yes, love?"

"i want-" you moan again, then beg, "i want to see you, touch you."

he pulls away, helping your limp body in a different position. the professor is ignored, even when she comes dangerously close to the desk. it sends a new wave of arousal to your core, just in time for seonghwa to slide into you again.

"look at that," he sighs, looking at your belly.

you follow his gaze, seeing the outline of his cock on it. your hands bring his head closer so you can kiss him, with equal hunger as before. he continues pounding into you, chasing his own orgasm.

"right, there better not be anyone. i'm not in the mood for any tricks!" umbridge threatens, causing both of you to chuckle into each others mouths.

"this is kind of hot," you admit.

"as much as it is, i want her to go away as soon as possible. i just can't cum when i see her face."

you laugh, glancing at the professor one more time. as if she heard, she listens, angrily stomping upstairs and slamming the door shut.

"uh, speaking of temperatures, i know this is crazy, but i am feeling a bit chilly." you admit, the winter air entering the classroom and hitting your naked skin. after all, you were only in your thin sleepwear, having heavy covers on your bed that kept you warm. seonghwa wastes no time in taking off his prefect cloak, helping you put it on and planting a kiss on your forehead.

"you look beautiful in green, my pretty hufflepuff."

blush paints your cheeks, his scent enveloping you and sending a fresh batch of butterflies to your stomach. you never noticed it before, but he smells of forest moss and after rain stone, with a hint of potions ingredients. it is intoxicating, entering your organism and threatening to never leave.

"oh, merlin," seonghwa throws his head back, lost in pure pleasure as your hole swallows him, the outline of his cock on your belly adding to it all and helping him get closer to his goal. "fuck- fuck-"

he's absolutely dashing, a thin layer of sweat shining on his face and making his dark locks stick to his forehead. his lips are plump from you biting and sucking on them, slightly parted and letting out little gasps and moans. he unbuttons the first few buttons of his uniform, not having a problem with the cold. you're a moaning mess, just like him, completely letting go of every thought you had until now, simply giving yourself to him and admiring him.

you feel full of him, and just when you thought you couldn't feel fuller, seonghwa hisses, spilling his load in you and creating more squelching sounds as he rides out his orgasm, pushing in and out of you sloppily.

it doesn't take long for you to reach your own, the knot in your stomach exploding as his tip slams mercilessly into your soft spot, making you grip his arms, shoulders, hair, anything you could reach. he works you through your high, not missing a single face or sound you make.

you're exhausted, struggling to catch your breath. the recovery lasts longer than usual, seonghwa having wrecked you inside out. his hands gently remove your hair from your face so he can take a good look at you.

"you're good, love. breathe." he coos, caressing your cheek and blowing into your face to cool you off.

"thank you," you blurt out.

"what for?" the slytherin prefect laughs at your innocence.

"i don't know. this, i guess. i've never enjoyed sex, always saw it as a chore. and i never felt desired, just objectified."

"well," the dark haired slytherin pecks your forehead, then your nose, and finally your lips, "you don't have to worry about that anymore. i've never desired anyone the way i desire you, and i think i just proved it to you how much. you don't have to fear those things with me anymore."

"park seonghwa, are you subtly asking me to be your girlfriend?" you shyly ask, knowing that you might be wrong and embarrass yourself in front of him. to your relief, he pecks your lips once again.

"perhaps. only if you want to. if not, then i'm not asking."

"perhaps i want to."

"perhaps that makes me happy."

"you're crazy." you laugh, and he joins.

seonghwa does one more thing no other partner has ever done for you; he helps you get cleaned, then dressed, and walks you to the doors of your common room.

"if you do decide to sneak off again, please do let me know. wouldn't want other prefects to find you and steal your heart."

you nod, and with a longer kiss, finally part ways with him. he waits until you finish your usual rhythmic tapping on the barrels, until the doors open, and finally, until you disappear into your common room and back to the dormitory.

you notice the sun already rising, and hurry to jump back in bed.

"excuse me? is that a slytherin cloak on you?"

you freeze in your tracks, the cloak ready to slide off you and hide under your pillow. the girl on the bed to your left doesn't give up, now sitting up and staring at you wide eyed.

"and a prefect one too?!" the voice on the right joins, waking up the rest of the room and bringing attention to you.

fuck.

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[entirelysein-e]

『 Taking his virginity 』

☼ synopsis: Satoru Gojo was a goddamn virgin and you were hellbent on testing your little theory before taking his innocence.

☼ character: Gojo

☼ wc: 3.8k

☼ cw: fem!reader, afab!reader, switch!Gojo, virginity loss, experienced reader, oral (reader giving), fingering, cum eating, creampie, overstimulation, aftercare

☼ notes: I gave this piece a little realism since not every first time is picture perfect and no one gets born a sex god. || sign up for my taglist here

Gojo had been chasing after you ever since the day he met you, trying to impress you with everything he could think of. But when his money or the stories he told didn't work, he slowly lost it, trying to make you jealous instead by telling you how many women he takes back to his dorm and how they all scream his name. “I bet they scream because he can't find the clit.” You laughed softly at Shoko’s remark after the white haired man told you about his latest fling.

“That's not true. She squirted all over my cock,” Gojo fired back with a pout on his face as he crossed his arms defensively, but the both of you had to stifle a laugh. He clearly was no gentleman since they don't kiss and tell, but the way he always went over the line with his stories, making sure they were all graphic and detailed, made it hard to believe for you. Why would he tell his crush all that? He followed you around like a lost puppy dog that was begging for just a crumb of your attention and the way he blushed when you teased him never went by unnoticed either. Gojo Satoru was a goddamn virgin and you were hellbent on testing your little theory.

Studying was quickly forgotten when you straddled his lap while he just tried to explain something about cursed energy to you, but you were far too busy with your own little plan to listen. “Finally got to your senses?” He asked with a smug grin and shoved his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose to look at you just above the dark-tinted glasses. His confidence was as fake as in his previous bedroom stories and it was so apparent by how tense he got when you rested your hands on his chest, his heart almost beating out of his ribcage. His pale skin formed goosebumps when you cupped his cheek ever so gently. “Perhaps I have... Fuck me, Satoru,” you whispered into his ear just before you pressed open-mouthed kisses to his neck and you could feel a shudder run down his spine.

His hands were on your ass in an instant, kneading the globes eagerly, but it screamed insecurity to you. Slender fingers were kneading your flesh when you started grinding your hips against him. A breathless moan escaped his soft lips upon the sensation and his grip on your ass was painful enough to leave bruises. To make things worse for him, you were mewling his name so pretty right into his ear, your words leaving him breathless as he helped you to move your hips, meeting every roll of yours with a little upward thrust. “Just like that, butterfly,” he moaned out. The sensation of your clothed cunt so close to his cock made him lose his mind entirely and he just wanted to be inside of you, have you as his first.

When your lips met his, Gojo moaned into your mouth, giving you the perfect opportunity to slip your tongue into his mouth and he held your hips close against his, aimlessly humping into you, but you bit his lip. “If you cum in your pants right now, I won't even think about sucking you off,” you warned him and his hips almost stilled instantly. His face and ears dusted pink when you caught onto him. It was torture to him, edging himself like this, but perhaps you're not just teasing him and he won't ever pass up on the feeling of your lips wrapping around his cock. Not when this very image was what caused many sleepless nights where he coated his hand in his own cum more than once. A single hiss left his lips when you started to grind your hips into his again, your breath hot against his neck as you marked his skin up with purple marks. It would be a lie to say that it didn't affect you, knowing that you make him feel so good and that you have him in your palm like putty. His cock feels delicious, even through your clothes. You were almost embarrassed by how soaked your panties were from a little dry humping, but you didn't take pity on his state, not until he admitted he’s a virgin. “Fuck. Can't you just use your mouth already?” He asked through gritted teeth and you moved your kisses to his jawline. “And with that stamina, you made women scream? Impatient asshole,” you teased and his eyes fluttered shut. He knew that you knew it was all a lie, but he wasn't ready to fall into your trap. “It's different with you,” he tried defending himself when you slowly got up from his lap and it took everything in him not to bend you over and bury his aching dick in your cunt. “It's different because it's an actual pussy grinding against you and not just your own hand for once, hm?” You asked and unbuttoned his shirt painfully slowly. “Please use your mouth. I'll do everything you want,” Gojo whispered the last part, feeling foolish for being so desperate, but it made you giggle.

“My eager little virgin,” you cooed and sank to your knees as he bit his own lip at how degrading it sounded to him, his hand slowly traveling into your hair to caress you. “Or am I wrong?” You asked as you unbuttoned his pants without pulling them down yet, until he shook his head. “No, no, you're not,” he said softly, nudging his pants down along with his underwear since you were taking too long for him. You were met with the prettiest cock, already leaking with pre-cum from his soft pink tip. “And you want me to be your first?” You asked, giving him the chance to stop this, fingers raking over his thighs before you pressed a single kiss to each of them. "Yes,” he smiled down at you, not believing his wet dream was about to become reality and you nodded softly as your kisses trailed further up to his hipbones, an impatient whine escaping him. “May I?” You asked him sweetly and looked up to him, but he couldn't answer anymore, gently guiding your head towards his tip, which made you laugh at how eager he was to experience this.

Gojo almost squeaked when your soft lips kissed the leaking tip of his cock, pre-cum already running down his shaft in small beads, but you had enough of the teasing, just wanting him to enjoy his first time now. Ever so gently, you wrapped your lips around his aching length and your longe immediately began to swirl around it, smoothing down any vein and ridge as you slowly sunk your head further down. When you looked up at him through your lashes, he was already far gone. His face contorted in pure bliss before he let his head fall back and his hands traveled to your head. He didn't push you further down, but he needed to hold onto you, feeling like you're sucking his soul out through his dick. When you hollowed out your cheeks for the first time, “fuuuck-” his groan was drawn out and you decided to take him further down your throat. That cocky bastard was indeed very well endowed and with some more practice, he would make women scream.

You barely managed to take his entire length, feeling him so far down your throat, but his sinful moan when your nose brushed the neatly trimmed hair at the base was worth the effort. His hands grabbed your hair tighter with every bop of your head, but it only made you moan. Your soft moans sent vibrations down his cock and that was all it took. Stuttered moans fell from his lips when he held your head in place, not wanting to lose the warmth of your mouth around him as his cum shot down your throat. Normally you would pull back and curse him for shoving your head further down and making you take his cum, but you let him have it this time. The poor virgin's legs were shaking violently in the aftermath of his orgasm when he slowly pulled back, a dust of crimson creeping up his neck, but it was quickly replaced with a cocky smirk. “You're such a good girl,” he praised, acting like someone in some poorly written porn, which made your eyes roll. “Next time, you better ask if the person sucking wants to swallow your cum.” You scolded him, your angry glare set right onto his face, but his cock twitched from your words.

“Can we skip foreplay?” He asked sheepishly, dying to experience your cunt wrapped so tightly around his cock, but you only raised your brows and your face fell quickly when you realized it wasn't a joke. “No?!” You snapped, stating the obvious, before taking your shirt off. His eyes almost fell out of his skull when your shirt landed on the ground and his lips were on you in a fraction of a second while eager hands worked to open your bra. A surprised moan slipped out of you when he managed to open your bra on the second try already and you could feel the smirk against your lips. Gojo’s large hands covered your boobs immediately, kneading them eagerly and you let him discover your body the way he wanted to. His kisses slowly wandered down your neck, giving it the same treatment you gave him earlier, sucking small marks onto your skin while leaving open-mouthed kisses behind. “You're so hot,” he breathed against your skin and you could feel how genuine he was. His cocky act was pushed aside. When his lips finally reached your chest, you were holding your breath, a single whimper slipping out when he wrapped his thin lips around one of your nipples while looking up at you to gauge your reaction. Upon seeing your eyes flutter shut and your hands burying themselves in his hair, he moaned content against your boobs, swiping his tongue over the pebbled nipple while his hand caressed the neglected breast until he switched sides.

He could do this forever, your boobs were so warm against him and the little noises you let out were all he ever needed - at least that's what he thought. "Toru, please... more,” you practically begged, certain that your panties would be drenched when he took them off, but Gojo didn't need to be told twice. Giving your boobs a kiss goodbye, his tongue trailed over your stomach to the hem of your pants. “May I?” He asked with a small smile on his face, repeating your own question from earlier to show that he learned from your scolding and asked for consent. A simple nod is all you could manage before slim fingers slowly pulled your pants down, leaving you behind in damp panties. Gojo might have been a virgin, but he held so much confidence if you let him just do his thing and it stole your words. “Let's lay down,” you suggested, feeling awkward since you were both still standing around at his desk, but Gojo agreed, gently picking you up to let you fall down on his messy bed, hovering halfway over you. He propped himself up on one arm while laying on his side, his other hand gently caressed your inner thighs, hoping you spread them further for him and you did. You didn't miss the gulp when his hand brushed against your soaked underwear, amazed by how wet you were for him - a little boost to his already far too big ego. “Please,” you begged breathlessly, unsure what exactly you were begging for, but you yearned to feel his fingers play with your wet pussy. Of course, Gojo flashed you the cockiest smile when you were begging him so desperately, but he didn't want to wait much longer either, so he hooked his slender fingers into the waistband of your panties and peeled them off of you. To help him, you lifted your hips ever so slightly and once the piece of fabric dropped to the floor next to the bed, Gojo was hovering above you, one of his knees placed between your thighs.

He didn't want you to see how nervous he felt, so he kissed you as his hands explored your body once again, but his tongue stopped caressing yours when the tips of his fingers touched your wet folds for the first time. “So wet for me, baby,” he cooed, masking his little shocked reaction, but you simply pulled him closer by the back of his neck to connect your lips once again. Clumsy fingers explored your pussy, sliding through your slit to smear your juices around before gently rubbing your labia. You had to stifle a small laughter when Gojo confidently massaged your labia minora as if he tried to start a fire with the friction. Not wanting to ruin the moment by speaking up and possibly embarrassing him, you gently reached between your bodies to guide his hand to where it's supposed to be, rewarding him with a soft moan. He picked up right away and gently rubbed circles onto your exposed clit until your legs started to shake slightly. His cock was so achingly hard from touching you that he could barely contain himself, but your pleasure was important to him, important to his pride, so he swiftly sank two fingers into you. Your back arched off the mattress at the sudden intrusion and your hands reached for his biceps just to hold onto something.

Gojo gasped when you clenched around his fingers for the first time, feeling just how tight and warm your little cunt was and he started fantasizing about how it would feel around his virgin cock. Would he even last long enough? He started to wonder as the pads of his fingers curled into your pussy - something he's seen in porn. “Fuck- just like that!” You whined out desperately before moans fell from your lips alongside praises. The moment your walls started to flutter around you, Gojo spat onto your clit and let his thumb rub it just like his palm did earlier. You had no idea where he learned it and truth be told, you didn't want to know where he picked that up from, but it was all you needed to tumble over the edge. Your walls gripped tightly onto his fingers as you moaned out his name like a lewd prayer, Satoru’s heart beating faster when he watched you orgasm just from his fingers. Once you came down from your high, you held onto his wrist with desperation, needing him to stop because you started to crave being stretched open by his cock.

When Gojo pulled his long fingers out of your wet cunt, he moaned, your juices staining the bedsheets where you laid and dripping off his fingers. Without thinking about it, he pushed his fingers between his lips to let his tongue get a taste of your sweet nectar and it was enough to make his cock twitch. “You taste so fucking good, butterfly,” the man between your thighs praised in a moan and the lewd scene made your pussy clench around nothing. “I'll make sure you come on my tongue next time, yeah?” He asked cocky and you had to get him down from his arrogant behavior. “Who said there would be a next time?” You asked, sounding rather pissed and he shook his head with a small chuckle. “If you allow me, that is,” he added with a wink that made you roll your eyes. He was so fucking cocky, but you also wanted to see him buried between your thighs, his blue eyes looking up at you while his tongue laps at your core like it's his last meal. You needed to see him drunk on your perfect little cunt, but right now you were dying to have his cock inside of you.

A single glare was shot at the white-haired man before you pulled him on top of your body again, your legs wrapping around his waist and he let his cock slide against your folds for the first time. Gojo’s eyes fell shut as he hissed. Your cunt felt so good against him like this and all he wanted to do was push inside to make you cum around his cock just like you did around his fingers, but your question took him off guard. “You sure you want this?” You asked, making sure he was still fully on board with this, seeing how absent his eyes looked for a moment, but he only nodded, letting his cock rub against your core once again. “You just feel so fucking good, is all,” he admitted, prodding at your needy entrance with his tip. His grip on his cock was almost painful when he lined himself up like that, but he waited for a sign - anything really that let him know he could push in - and then he felt the heels of your feet digging into his firm ass cheeks, making him push in with just one thrust.

Both of you moaned out when his hips were flush against yours, his cock buried so deep inside your awaiting cunt and Gojo almost blacked out.

Your pussy felt even better around his dick than he imagined, but you were so tight it almost hurt to move. “We can stay like this for a moment,” you whispered reassuringly, not trusting your voice to be any louder since your breathing was already ragged. Satoru nodded and his head dropped into the crook of your neck, lazily kissing your sensitive skin while he took deep breaths. Both of you knew he wouldn't last longer than a few seconds if he moved right now and you allowed him to do this at his own pace, not making fun of him or teasing him for once. “You feel so good, Satoru,” you whined out, his cock driving you insane just by being nestled inside of you and just as you slowly started to lose it, Gojo pulled out almost all the way before thrusting back inside, over and over again. His thrusts were sloppy and clearly inexperienced, but the way his tip was hitting all the right spots so deep inside of you made you moan his name, a lewd string of praise and profanities falling from your lips until he stilled after just a few more thrusts. “So close- fuck, I'm gonna-” he warned and you helped him by meeting his thrusts, silently assuring him that you want him to cum inside of you. “Oh fuck, butterfly,” his voice cracked when his hips humped yours, and his head dropped into the crook of your neck once again. His balls felt so heavy, tightening over and over again as his cock pumped you full of his release and you could swear that he's whimpering in your ear as he experienced his first orgasm inside of you and it felt so intense he had to pull out the second it was over.

He watched his cum flow out of your little hole and his first reaction was to stuff it back inside with his fingers, which caught you off guard. “Satoru, so good!” You whined loudly, still feeling so full with his cum inside of you, but the embarrassment and disappointment of not feeling you cum around his cock started to creep up on him. This was something he needed to feel, he felt like he might drop dead if he didn't have you wrapped around his length anymore, so he swiftly removed his fingers from your weeping cunt and lifted you onto his lap once he laid down.

The white-haired man's dick was still rock solid, his tip a deep shade of pink from all the stimulation, but his blue eyes connected with yours. “Please,” he begged and you sunk down on his overstimulated cock, almost feeling bad for him when he gritted his teeth as you sunk down. Your head immediately fell back at the way he filled you up now, the new angle letting him in so much deeper. His name felt heavenly on your tongue when you moaned it over and over, letting him hear how good he made you feel with his cock, but his ears were ringing from the overstimulation, yet he craved your tight cunt grinding and bouncing off his dick. In sheer desperation, he reached out to rub your clit, his thumb swiping over your little pearl as his other hand found its home on your ass, where he kneaded the flesh. And there it was - the fluttering of your walls - a telltale sign of your orgasm rippling through your body, which made Gojo moan breathless. Your cunt sucked him deeper while clenching down like a vice as you almost screamed his name when the knot in your stomach finally snapped, your hips erratically humped his cock and your vision blurred. Satoru had to stop rubbing your clit, his hand now grabbing onto your other butt cheek as he pumped another load deep inside of you before you collapsed onto his chest, almost unmoving while his balls kept pumping more of his seed into you until his orgasm finally ceased.

Both of you laid there, panting and none of you wanted to move or say anything. Gojo simply wrapped his arms around your upper body, slender fingers caressing the skin of your back as you gently kissed his jawline with sweet, almost innocent kisses. Your heartbeat matched his, beating strongly at a fast pace, but you eventually forced yourself up a little bit to look at him. One of your hands cupped his cheek gently. “You okay?” You asked caring, wanting to know if he's satisfied, if his first time was what he imagined and Gojo nodded with a breathless chuckle. “I'm so fucking okay,” he said enthusiastically and his smile was a genuine one this time. “Can we stay like this for a moment?” He asked immediately after, not wanting to let go of you just yet, but you nodded and rested your head back on his shoulder. "Hmm, for a moment, but we need to clean up eventually,” you mumbled into him before kissing his shoulder, and he nodded as he wrapped his arms around you again. “Perhaps we can take a shower together,” he mused, a grin dancing on his lips and you shook your head with a soft laugh before agreeing. Perhaps this was something you could get used to. Perhaps one day Gojo could call you his.

Networks: @interstellar-inn @houseofsolisoccasum

[moonstruckme]

May I request a dr Remus scolding reader for ignoring a broken toe?

I know it’s nothing major (which is nice sometimes). I often break my toe and just ignore it until it hurts a lot.

I think Remus would give a good little speech about taking care of things he love (reader)

Thank you!

I'm sorry, often??? Uhh hope you're doing okay lovely, thanks for requesting <3

cw: broken toe, no description

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 730 words

“Don’t touch it,” you hiss.

Remus looks over from where he’s holding your foot in his lap with a sardonic expression. “I thought it didn’t hurt.”

“It doesn’t when you’re not touching it!” 

“Dove.” He wraps a hand around your ankle when you try to pull away, his touch one part soothing and two parts stern. “I’m going to have to touch it some, okay? Just breathe and let me know where it hurts.” 

You sit back against the couch cushions and try not to sulk. This is entrapment. Your know-it-all boyfriend hid the pain relievers just so you’d have to fess up to needing them when he caught you ransacking the bathroom, and now he’s making you submit to his know-it-all exam so you can have them. Entrapment and bribery. You should look into whether you can sue him for malpractice. 

“Ah!” You suck in a gasp. “There, it hurts there.” 

Remus stops touching your injured toe. “Sorry,” he says, rubbing the bottom of your foot consolingly. “I hate to tell you, but this isn’t a sprain. Sprains don’t hurt to the touch like this.” 

Oh, you’ll bet he hates to tell you. Told-you-so are Remus’ favorite words. 

“But it’s so much easier if it’s a sprain,” you whine. “It could still just be bruised. I read online that those feel almost indistinguishable from breaks.” 

“Oh, you read it online, did you?” Remus manages to get enough eye-roll into his voice that he doesn’t even need to follow through on the action. You must look even poutier than you intend, because he cracks, grinning at you indulgently. He beckons with a hand. “Give me your other foot.” 

You blink. Raise your eyebrows at him. “What do you want with it? I think you have enough of my feet there already.” 

“It’s for comparison, dove.” 

“Sure it is.” You lift your other foot onto his lap. “Pervert.” 

Remus’ tongue pokes into his cheek, suppressing a different sort of grin. He grasps your good foot and digs his thumb into the ticklish part cruelly, making you squeal and kick at him. “You’re the pervert,” he says placidly, pinning your foot until you settle down. “Look here, see?” 

You lean forward tentatively, the end of a giggle still fizzing in your chest. 

“The toe on this foot is a little curved, but that one’s definitely worse.” He tugs on your good toe as if to demonstrate. “They were probably the same before you broke it.” 

You sigh, resigned. “I don’t want it to be broken, though. Then it’s, like, a whole thing.” 

Remus makes a sorry face at you. He lifts your injured foot, kissing the side. “I know, sweetheart. I’m sorry.” 

“Well,” you say, eyeing him, “at least you can stop touching my feet now.” 

“This one, yes.” He unhands your good foot. “But this one, I think I need to keep an eye on.” 

You cross your arms, suspicious. Never mind that his lap is a very comfortable footrest. “And why’s that?” 

“Because I take care of the things that are important to me.” He cuts a look your way. “Some of us don’t seem to do the same.” 

“Ugh,” you laugh, ignoring the heat rushing to your cheeks, “you’re the worst, you know that?” 

“Yeah, dovey, I know.” He smiles down at his phone, keeping one hand wrapped securely around your ankle while the other thumbs something into the search bar. 

“What’re you doing?” 

“Making you an appointment for tomorrow morning. We have a podiatrist at my work, I’ll go with you.” 

You frown. “Do I really have to go to your office so someone else can tell me what you just did?” 

This time, Remus does roll his eyes. You poke him with your good foot to let him know you saw. “Yes, you do. They could help it heal faster, and I know you’ll listen better if they tell you to rest it than if I tell you.” 

“I listen to you.” 

“Oh, yeah?” He looks over at you interestedly. “I told you to rest it when you hurt it two days ago. How’s it feeling now?” 

You look away from his gaze. “Coddled,” you mutter. 

Remus chuckles. He leans sideways, bumping your nose with his until you oblige him with a kiss. “If that’s what it takes, sweetheart,” he says, “I’m happy to coddle you.”

[restinslices]

Everything

PJO Show Ares x Child!Reader (no gender specified)

Word count: 2459

Summary: Ares supposedly hates kids, so it’s really strange that he comes when you call. (Do not let the summary fool you, this is not fluff. Based on a dream I had a couple days ago. Warning for possible ooc Ares and brief mentions of abuse. Blink and you’ll miss it type shit)

“I don't wanna say”, Grover fingers fidgeted with each other as he purposefully avoided eye contact with you. 

“We're friends, right?”

“Of course!”

“Then you have to tell me! You spoke to my father, I gotta know what he said! What was he like? I bet he was really cool! Man, I wish I could've been there and talked to him”, you looked down at your shoes and added more misery to your face than was necessary. It was extremely childish and petty but Grover kept refusing to tell you what your father Ares was like. You had to know though. You doubted he brought you up, but you still wanted to know what he said and what he was like when he was just out and about. Grover had the opportunity to have a long talk with him and that was something you'd kill and suffer for. 

“I doubt you'd wanna do that” he mumbled, but you heard him. 

“Why'd you say that?” You asked. 

Grover refused to expound on what he meant… at first. 

Everyone knew Grover couldn't hold water so it didn't take too much prodding before he spilled his guts. 

The memory replayed in your head more than you'd like to admit, and if it were up to you, you'd no longer be a half blood. 

It made you feel pathetic. Tons of gods- no. All the gods were shitty parents. After all, they had children with mortals and left the children on Earth, knowing they'd be hunted down. Plenty of half bloods died in a gruesome painful way and at a young age. Plenty of gods never claimed their children, even if they made it to Camp Half Blood. But Ares did claim you, so you assumed that that meant he cared for you in some way. He even gifted you with a double sided sword. Surely, he must've loved you. 

You were foolish and you hated how foolish you were. You should've known he didn't care. He left you here with mortals and watched as your home life got worse and worse which was due to multiple factors including a piss poor mother and step family, the aura children of Ares give off that makes people around them experience rage and of course the random monster attacks that your family blamed you for. It was as if they thought you begged Ares to be his child. As if you'd ever do something as stupid as that. 

The rain soaked through your hood, making your hair all wet and gross. You were an idiot. You tried coming home for the school year, thinking maybe your family changed. They said they did. They tended to lie a lot though. You got into a huge fight and stormed out and you were in such a hurry that you completely forgot to grab your pouch full of drachmas and you didn't wanna step another foot in that house. So now here you were, outside with freezing cold hands that couldn't be warmed because your hoodie was soaking and you couldn't call Chiron. Perfect.

You checked your pockets once again, hoping to find something other than the lighter and fruit roll up that was there but alas, nothing magically appeared. You held the two objects in your hand and an idea formed in your mind. 

You could always set the fruit roll up on fire as an offering. You could pray to your father and hope he hears you and sends you something to help. 

No. That's incredibly stupid. Could you even light a fruit roll up on fire? It didn't matter. Not only was that the stupidest offering ever but you refused to pray to him. You'd rather sleep out in the rain then sneak inside when your family was gone to get your shit. 

You put the two objects in your pocket and let your head rest on your knees, exhaustion hitting. It wasn't even physical exhaustion. It was all mental and emotional. Like a leech was sucking on you constantly. Or a vampire. You'd prefer that. At least you'd die quicker. 

The hum of a motorcycle filled your ears, getting closer and closer. Best case scenario, it was a neighbor. Worst case scenario, it was a murderer. Honestly, you'd welcome both. 

The hum stopped and a familiar voice made you look up, “rough night”. 

It was him. Ares. God of war. Father to who knew how many. It was someone you definitely did not want to see… or so you thought. Part of you absolutely despised him now and everything to do with him and wanted to rip him apart. The other part of you though still felt an immense amount of joy when you saw him and you wanted to cling to him like a child clings to its favorite toy. If you were alone, you would've screamed. 

Then a thought crossed your mind. You didn't burn anything. You didn't make an offering. 

“You were going to” he said, seeming to read your mind. 

“Why are you here?” you managed to get out after some time of just staring at him. 

“Why do you think I'm here?” he asked and you could tell by his tone he meant it sarcastically. Like “the reason is so obvious. Stop being stupid”. 

Something about that sarcastic and irritated tone made you think back to what Grover told you. 

“Why don't you like me?” You asked and you hadn't meant to. It was supposed to stay in your head. 

He squinted his eyes at you and looked you up and down, “what?”. 

You could've let it go. You could've said nevermind, thanked him and let him help. You couldn't though. You didn't know when you'd have this chance again (the camp visited them but damn, there was a lot of you) and if you did something to make him not like you, you wanted to fix it. But that wasn't your job, right? Parents are supposed to care for their kids. 

You did that a lot. Your mind juggled opposite thoughts and it drove you insane. This was just the latest bit of juggling you'd been doing. 

“Grover said he spoke to you-”

“Who is Grover?”

“Percy's friend. The satyr”. A look of anger flashed in his eyes. You knew he remembered Percy. You didn't give him time to start yelling about the 12 year old that beat him in a fight. “Grover said that he spoke to you. I asked what it was like and he said that you said that you hate kids. Even your own. And when we visit, it's the worst day of the year. So, I was just wondering why you don't like me. Is it something I've done?”. 

Ares just rolled his eyes and sighed, “you're taking that personal?”. 

“It's kinda hard not to”. 

“I came to take you back to camp, not talk about whatever crisis you're having right now”. 

You didn't know if you were angry because of what he said, or because of his effect on others. Either way, blood started rushing to your head. “I'm not asking for a lot. I'm asking for an answer. A simple answer. Why don't you like me?”

“I don't like any of my kids”

“And that makes it better?” You asked in disbelief. Ares just stared at you, emotion void on his face. 

“Why do you do this? You keep having kids even though you hate them. Why?”. 

“It's not that simple and I don't have to explain anything to you”. You wished he'd show emotion. Any sliver of it. He was too calm, too numb. You'd prefer him yelling at you but nothing seemed to phase him. He was talking to you the same way you'd talk to a toddler. 

“It is incredibly simple. Just stop having sex with mortals. You already have Aphrodite -who is a married woman but whatever-” you rushed the last part. You didn't particularly care for the affairs between the gods. “How could your eyes possibly wander?”. 

Seeing him show a sliver of anger when you mentioned Aphrodite only filled you with more rage. That’s what angered him? That’s what got emotion out of him? “Really? That's what gets you? What about me being drenched?”

“You chose to come out here” he said through gritted teeth. If you knew Aphrodite was the key to him showing any piece of human emotion, you would've brought her up earlier. 

“I didn't choose this!” Your voice rose, “I didn't choose to be abandoned by my father and be stuck with a dysfunctional family for the rest of my life. You should be angry at that, not me mentioning Aphrodite. You should be enraged at the thought of anyone putting their hands on me and your hands should be covered in their blood! That is how it should be”. 

“Believe it or not the gods aren't too keen on the idea of killing mortals”

“But turning them into various objects and ruining their lives when it's a boring Tuesday is ok?”. His face went back to being blank and emotionless and your plan to stop talking was scrapped. You weren't even sure what you wanted. You wanted him to show something besides anger. Sadness? Regret maybe? Just something to show that maybe, just maybe, he cared deep down and regretted leaving you. 

“None of us asked for this. You all just decide to create and leave us. And you hating the people you created is… I don't know. And it's so stupid that I've spent years of my life trying to get you to be proud of me, only for it to be impossible!”. 

“I claimed you didn't I?” he defended himself, but you scoffed. 

“That's the bare minimum dad! That's like saying your kids should be grateful because you feed them!” You were full on screaming by now and you wouldn't have been surprised if a neighbor came out to see what the fuss was about. “I don't even know why I'm having this conversation with you. You probably hate being called 'dad’ and you don't care. You're never gonna get it”

“I try everyday to make you see me and you do everything in your power to not see me. To not see any of us. I would work myself to death for you. I would betray anyone close to me for you. If you asked me to burn down the world for you, I would. If you asked me to extinguish the sun, I'd find a way to because to me… to me you were everything. You are everything”. 

You couldn't tell if your face was wet from the rain, or from tears of sorrow and anger. It could've been both. Your eyes certainly stung and you hated it. You knew you had every right to be frustrated, but you hated how weak it made you feel. The children of Ares weren't supposed to cry. They were supposed to be headstrong and fight their enemies. They were supposed to be fierce warriors capable of bringing armies down to their knees. They were meant to shed blood, not tears. 

You thought for a second you saw an emotion cross his face. You couldn't pinpoint it though. It happened too fast and there was a good chance you were imagining things. 

“You can go. I'd rather sleep in the rain. I wouldn't wanna be even more of a burden” you spat with such venom you didn't know it was possible. Sure, you could have a bit of a temper but this felt different. It wasn't just anger or annoyance. There was a mix of grieving. 

It went silent for awhile, and the adrenaline you felt slowly went down. Reality started to sink in. You just yelled at a god. People who were known to cause destruction for something as small as “I think my shoes are better than yours”. 

“Are you gonna curse me? Or, I don't know, strangle me with my own shoe laces?”. Ares reached into his pocket and you looked away and closed your eyes. You expected to feel a burning sensation. That's what you assumed being cursed was like. A burning sensation and then you'd lose a limb or something. 

All you felt was something land on your lap. You looked down and saw a red pouch with gold string keeping it closed. You looked up at him, but he didn't say anything. You untied the string and opened the pouch and inside laid a pile of drachmas. 

Now he spoke, “call Chiron or whoever else works at that camp. Don't die out here”. 

“You're leaving?” You asked. You didn't know why you were disappointed. You should've been happy. After all, you just went off on him about how shit he was. 

“I have a busy schedule”. You wanted to ask if he'd be seeing the married woman he slept with or another unfortunate mortal, but you figured you pushed your luck enough today. 

“Thanks uhh…” you debated on calling him dad but instead you called him by his name. “Ares”. Then you remembered some gods could be particularly upset when you used their name. “God of war and all those other honorifics”. 

“Yeah” was all he said before he sped off, leaving you alone once again. You didn't know what he was saying “yeah” to but you didn't have enough time to ask and he probably wouldn't even answer. 

You called Chiron and asked to be brought back to camp but you didn't tell him about the conversation you had with Ares. 

You couldn't get the conversation out of your head, even after you showered and laid down to finally get some rest. 

Of course you kept thinking about the conversation and how lucky you were Ares didn't throw you into the street and run you over. 

Another thing stayed on your mind though. 

You didn't give an offering. You were told the gods would listen if you burned something that mattered, like the thickest piece of meat on your plate. You weren't sure they were actually listening and honestly you thought it was a real asshole condition. 

All you had was some stupid candy and you didn't even burn that and the minute you thought about it, he appeared like he was already watching. 

But you doubted he was watching. You doubted he listened to your prayers at all. 

You were one of his children which was something he hated. He'd claim you, possibly send a gift then be done with you. He didn't listen to you anymore. He didn't watch over you anymore. 

It was a coincidence. That's all it was. 

You were sure of it. 

At least, you tried to be. 

This is definitely ooc Ares but YA’LL KNOW I’M A LITTLE FUCKING SLOW! BE PATIENT WITH ME GOTDAMMIT😭 If you saw any errors, no you did not. I already proofread it once and I don’t feel like doing it again like I typically do. It’s 1am. I should be asleep.

[thewriterwithnoplan]

Ferrari's Fairytale (1/3)

Summary: World Championships are the most important part of any Formula One team's history. Except perhaps, Ferrari's. Known for their rabid fans, filthy-rich investors, and pretty boy drivers it shouldn't be a surprise that the team has brought together Soulmates from across the globe. And fate, it seems, is working awfully hard to put all the pieces into place for Ferrari's perfect fairytale - one that's been in the works for decades now.

[Part 1 of Pretty Girls and Ferrari Boys]

Soulmate AU: Soulmates share injuries and pain.

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader (Eventual)

Word Count: 1650

Warnings: Swearing, no Charles in this first part sorry it's his epic love story and those take time ;)

Masterlist

There was something wrong with your soulmate.

Really there had been something wrong with them since you were eight years old. But right now, there was something particularly wrong with them.

“Just some bruising over the ribcage, but no actual damage internally.” The medic presses a latex covered hand gently against your ribs.

“They feel broken.” You suck in a pained breath and glare over her shoulder, at the little framed picture of her cat, Terror, on her desk. “You’re sure I’m not about to sneeze and puncture a lung?”

“Funny.” Though the look she gives you as she pulls off her gloves is less than amused. “Which one of us went to medical school again?”

“My best friend. You might know her. She’s stunning, generous, gives me free check-ups, did I say stunning? Goes by Sunny.”

“It’s Doctor Sunny to you.” She slingshots one of the gloves at you. “But it’s good to know you only keep me around for the free check-ups.”

“My soulmate would bankrupt me without you.”

Sunny taps at her computer, “The fee isn’t that high.”

“Sure,” You shrug. “If you aren’t in here every other week.”

“Have we ruled out hitman as their profession?”

“Since we were eight?”

“I don’t know much about hitmen, maybe they start them young.”

You lower yourself carefully from the observation table and move stiffly toward her desk. “Give it to me straight Doc. How much longer have I got?”

“I’m afraid you’ll live, ma’am.” Sunny doesn’t even look up. “A tragedy for all, I know. I can give you a moment if you need time to process– Ow! Bitch.”

She rubs at her shoulder and huffs.

“I’m going to have to log that in the database, you know.” She says.

“Good, maybe we can both find our soulmates and be done with it all.”

“Real romantic, dude.”

“Your soulmate hasn’t been terrorising you since you were a kid.”

“I had my fair share of scraped knees,” Sunny wrinkles her nose when you stick your tongue out. “You do know it won’t stop after the two of you meet, right? That’s a schoolyard myth.”

“After the talking to I’m going to give him, you bet your perky ass it’s going to stop.”

“That’s the second instance of workplace harassment I’ve coped from you in the last minute.”

“Fine. Your ass is not perky.”

“Mature.” She hums, “What time did you say the pain started?”

“Ten-thirty-ish?”

“All good then.” Sunny makes a few more clicks before powering down her computer. “Your chest and my arm, all nice and logged.”

“You know, sometimes I think you became a Match Medic specifically so you could put every little thing into the database to make it easier to find your soulmate.”

“Perks of the job.” She scoops up her handbag. “Come on, let’s bounce before the front desk starts scheduling over my lunch break.”

“You remember how I said you were stunning and generous and stunning?”

“I’m not buying you lunch.”

“Could this week get any worse?” You throw your head back dramatically.

Sunny cracks a smile at your antics, “Only a few more hours and we’re free for the weekend.”

“Are we still on for pamper-night tonight?”

“Always. Mine or yours?”

You end up spending the night in Sunny’s apartment, covered in different rejuvenating oils and masks until you look like low-budget horror movie villains. In your fluffy robes with The Princess Bride on in the background Sunny tries to teach you how to make Hainanese Chicken the way her mother did. Terror cries at your feet when you tell him he can’t have raw chicken. Sunny pops a bottle of cheap champagne that makes you both grimace and promise one another that you would find an excuse to get a nicer bottle soon. You take turns washing the excess from the face, foot, and hair masks off. Then curl up together on the couch, sipping broth, digging into rice and slathering chicken in Sunny’s family’s super-secret chilli sauce. You both fall asleep at a very respectable eleven o’clock.

So, it’s fucking strange when you wake up feeling like you had spent the night inside a paint mixer.

“Are you okay?” Sunny frowns as she stands over a pan of eggs. “You look ill.”

You squint over your coffee cup, “Soulmate is playing up.”

She plates the eggs next to a small stack of bacon before turning to put a hand to your forehead. “They shouldn’t be making you feel sick, illness doesn’t transfer like that. Are you sure it’s coming from them? Could you just be hung over?”

“It’s definitely him, third weekend in a row, like clockwork.” You take your plate gratefully, “It’s like I always tell you. It’s not nausea. It’s more like…”

“Impossible to explain for you and every medical practitioner you’ve ever seen?”

You groan, “It’s like my brain spent the night trying to escape my skull and the muscles in my neck were in on it.”

“It’s not unheard of for soulmates to feel the repercussions of an intense work out. There was this study from four years ago on high performance athletes and their partners that–”

You groan again, “Oh god and now there’s a nerd in my ear!”  

She tosses a gelatinous bit of egg onto your plate. It lands with a splat that makes you fake gag. “Oh, grow up.”

“You should be nice to me,” You lament, “I’m wounded!”

“Your soulmate is wounded.”

“And I’m sure their best friend is taking very good care of them!”

She pulls a face at you but still takes your plate to the dishwasher for you. As she’s rinsing them, she asks, “What’s on for the rest of your weekend?”

“I got a call from my parents on Thursday and guess what?” You sipped at the cold dregs of your coffee, “The dentist finally figured out which one of them the toothache is coming from!”

“That’s great,” Sunny’s smile was genuine. “They’re going in to get it fixed?”

“Tomorrow morning, both going under local anaesthesia.”

You hip checked her lightly out of the way to rinse both your cups. “You want another coffee?”

Sunny propped herself up on the counter, “My caffeine addiction is rubbing off on you I fear.”

“Listen, we have to get through the day somehow.” You coaxed the machine back to life before leaning against the counter to look at Sunny. “Anyway, my parents were supposed to go to this race tomorrow. Dad is particularly devastated and has practically ordered me to represent the family ‘at our home race.’ It’s been tradition for him and mum since they got married. It’s kind of a big deal for him. The man is obsessive.”

“My parents had something similar to say about our family legacy and studying medicine.”

“Speaking of… You remember all the times I sat up with you studying, or brought you food when you forgot to eat, or ran errands for you, or made sure you took breaks, or–”

“Fine, I get it, I’ll go to the stupid race.”

“Oh, how kind of you to offer.” You passed her one of the cups. “It won’t be that bad. Motorsports are supposed to be fun live, right?”

Sunny snorted, “Thank God. Motorsports? I thought you meant like a horse race or a marathon. I was getting war-flashbacks to track-and-field.”

You put a hand to your heart, “You were willing to relive cross country for me?”

“I was willing to ogle fit, sweaty men for you, definitely.”

“Alright, first of all – fuck you. But also same,” You clinked mugs and nodded solemnly at one another, “Maybe we can find some fit, sweaty drivers to ogle instead.”

Sunny hummed, “What do I wear? Is it like sprint cars or more like V8s – ooh is it an illegal drag race?”

“Girl, no.” You swatted at her thigh, “It’s Formula 1, which is perfectly legal and safe and much faster than any of those options.”

“Alright, Miss Daddy’s-Girl, go off.”

“Shut up, I’ve had to hear him go on and on about it my whole life.” You pulled a face at your coffee. “The man has had a hard-on for Ferrari since before he met my mother, and then he met her in the Ferrari hospitality at an F1 race, and he’s fucking worshipped them ever since.”

“Oh my god, why am I only just hearing about this?” She grabbed your face, squishing your cheeks and cooing. “You’re a little Ferrari baby.”

You blew a rather unladylike raspberry at her and knocked her hand away, “Because it’s embarrassing! Dad was only there because he and his friend won tickets. So, when Ferrari marketing caught wind that soulmates had met in their pavilion, they practically fell over themselves.”

“Holy shit!” Sunny practically howled in delight, “Is that where all those baby pictures of you in little Ferrari onesies came from?”

“Ferrari’s own little fairytale, Mr-won-his-way-in and Miss-heir-to-a-real-estate-monopoly. It's like Romeo and Juliet; if Romeo and Juliet survived, had a kid and decided to make it the poster child of their love story.”

“Don’t sound so disgusted, that’s cute as fuck.” Sunny snatches up your empty cup and stacks it next to hers in the dishwasher.

You frown, “Not everything has to be a love story.”

“I don’t know, girl, I’m pretty sure you just asked me to play out your parents first meeting with you tomorrow.” She winks at you over her shoulder as she heads toward her room.

“Oh, fuck off, Sunny.”

“I think this calls for new outfits!” She emerges from her room, towel over one shoulder. “What was your Mum wearing when she met your dad?”

“We are not reenacting my parents meet-cute.”

“Who knows, maybe you’ll have your own meet-cute with a certain pain-prone soulmate, hm?” In the moment it takes you to reorientate yourself after her comment, she’s breezing past you with a bright, “I’m having first shower!”

You squark in indignation. Like hell, you’ll let either of those things happen to you this weekend.

(Part 2 : Ferrari's Prince - 03.05.24)

[cherryredstars]

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x gn!reader

Warnings: 18+, Smut with Little Plot, Marking, Hair Pulling, Handjob(s), Slight Edging, Slight Praise, Overstimulation, Slight Cum Eating, Sub!Miguel, Dom!reader

Summary: You can make that funny feeling go away… can’t you?

A/N: Sub!Miguel makes me FERAL!!!

Word Count: 2.3K (Barely Edited)

“It hurts.”

That’s what Miguel mumbled when you were sucking along his throat, tongue lapping and toying with the sensitive skin. Bruises bloomed like flowers over his tanned skin and shined with leftover saliva. You had made yourself comfortable on his lap, straddling his hips while your hands rested on his chest and held the back of his neck. 

It hurt, but not a painful hurt. More like a…funny type of hurt. A funny sensation that crawled all over his skin like tiny spiders the longer you kissed his neck or shifted your hips to get a better angle. It almost burned in a way. It left him breathless and he had to hold on to your waist tightly to try to keep it at bay. 

When the two words had slipped from his mouth, you had paused momentarily before smirking into his skin and continuing on. As far as you knew, Miguel’s sexual experience could be chalked up to unrealistic videos and a sticky right hand. A teasing hum vibrated against his neck as you licked a strip up his neck to his ear. Maybe it was time to show him the real deal.

“It hurts? Where does it hurt, Miggy?” You asked with a tint of fake concern.

Miguel almost passed out when you tugged on his ear gently with your teeth the same time your hips ‘accidently’ grinded into him. His breath hitches and he holds your waist a bit tighter, sure to leave marks of his own later on. He bites his lip, trying to focus on your question and not on the way the sensation is beginning to seep through his skin and into his muscles. “Everywhere.”

It’s a whisper, bordering on a whine. You have to bite your own lip to stop yourself from letting out an amused chuckle. It’s mean. You know it is, finding a sense of excitement while your boyfriend is obviously trying to keep it together. But you can’t help it when he’s failing so hard.

“Everywhere?” You tease with a small gasp, “That isn’t good. Does this make it worse?”

A groan slips out when you rotate your hips hard. He has to grit his teeth to stop himself from cursing at you and grabbing your skin in a painful pinch. If it burned before, then now it was searing. It takes everything in him to not do the same back to you. “Yes.”

A small laugh slips out before you can stop it. This is too easy. Too much fun. “I’m so sorry. I bet you want it to go away, don’t you?”

“I don’t know how,” He grunts out trying to stop himself from moving again when you start kissing along his skin again. He doesn’t know if he wants to move his body closer or away from yours. It’s like his body and mind are battling each other. Over what? He doesn’t know.

“That’s okay. I know how.” You coo against his skin. “Want me to make it go away?”

His nod is immediate, desperate. He leans his body away from you slightly, taking his hands off of you so you can do whatever it is you need to do. His hands immediately ball up the bedsheet in his fists. When he moves away, you tsk lightly, using the hand still around his nape to pull him forward again. “I didn’t tell you to do that. How am I supposed to help if you run away?”

He mutters a “sorry”, too entranced by the way his face is so close to yours. His eyes can’t even meet yours. This is the first time in around 30 minutes that he has seen your face clearly now that it isn’t in the crook of his neck. Your lips are plump and glossy from your own spit and his eyes stay on them as you speak to him. He physically needs to stop himself from letting out a pathetic whine over the fact you’re not kissing him. 

You roll your eyes as you realize where his attention is. You lazily rest an arm over his shoulder as the hand around his neck comes up to his chin. You grip it slightly, moving his head upwards with little resistance so he can look into your eyes. His gulp is audible as his red eyes meet yours. He looks like a puppy, staring up at you with slightly glossy eyes. 

You hum in approval, mumbling “eyes up here” against his lips before pressing your lips together. 

The sigh he lets out is one full of relief as he closes his eyes. It’s as if he’s finally getting a sip of water after being out in the desert for days. His hands let go of the sheet in favor of getting them tangled in your hair. A groan vibrates from his chest when your tongue slips into his mouth, softly creasing his own. 

Your arm slowly moves off his shoulder as you press your mouth harder against his. It's a perfect distraction as your hand moves down to his sweatpants, slipping past the waistband and ghosting over something that’s leaking. Your eyes flutter opening to watch Miguel’s reaction when you swipe his mushroom tip with a finger. It instantly coats the pad of your finger in precum.

Miguel’s eyes snap open, pulling away from your lips to look down. When he sees your hand hidden under his pants, he can’t help the breathless moan he lets out. It’s even worse when your hand reappears, his cock in hand. He can’t stop it this time when his hips shift forward to get closer to your touch. 

He only looks away when you sharply tug his hair back. His head is tilted backwards as your face hovers over him. He whimpers at the sharp pain, a slightly anguished expression filling his features. He tries to move his head forward again, trying to look back down, but another sharp tug instantly brings his eyes back to yours. “What did I say? Eyes up here, sweet boy.”

The nickname makes him twitch, a puff of hair leaving his nose. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat trying to get away and get closer at the same time. The funny feeling is still there, but it’s more complicated now. It is still deadly strong, but it also is being eased with your touch. He wants it to stop and also wants it to continue. Maybe his brain is broken. Maybe that’s just how it is when he’s around you. God why hasn’t he ever let you jerk him off sooner?

With his head tilted back again, you go back to kissing his skin. Your hand begins to slowly move, squeezing his tip as more precum leaks out. You feel his gasp before you hear it, the shifting of his vocal cords bouncing against your lips. Your teeth try to catch the movement with a nip that only causes another gasp. 

When your hand leaves to glide up and down his length with a tight grip, Miguel has to shut his eyes. His hands leave your hair to clutch his sheets again. In this very moment, the word liar is the only coherent thought that can break through his foggy mind. Liar, liar, liar. You’re a dirty fucking liar. Because instead of making that funny feeling go away, you’re making it unbearable.

As if you can read his thoughts, you lick his skin and giggle. “I know, I know. You can get through this, can’t you?”

No. No he can’t. He knows he can’t. Not when you’re still marking his neck. Not when your hand is so warm. Not when it’s so tight. Not when you’re abusing his cock with each sharp tug and jerk. Not when you move your hand faster and faster only to slow down again when his pelvis jolts up. But he doesn’t say that. Instead he moans out, “Yes.”

And that’s the right answer. The perfect answer. He knows it is when you move your hand hard and fast again. He knows because you're smiling against his skin and kissing his lips again. He knows because when he thinks your hand is going to slow down again because he’s bucking his hips, you go faster instead and squeeze tight. 

He’s making a mess. He feels it when it soaks into his shirt and sweatpants. Hears it by the wet noise it makes when it hits your skin. He sees it when he pulls away and he tilts his head forward to see the cum, his cum, coating your hand as it slowly strokes him. He lets out a breathless sigh as he feels that funny feeling finally diminishing. 

As he’s about to lean back into the bed in relief, his body is jolting and shaking upwards. His head snaps back down and you’re still going. Your hand is picking up speed again and it’s bringing back that funny feeling tenfold. He’s sensitive. So sensitive. It hurts again. 

“What are you doing?” He grits out, reaching his hand out to try to stop yours. It’s instantly shut down when you slap his hand away and move faster. He lets out a stimulated whine and has to close his eyes to recollect himself. “You’re making it worse.”

You don’t reply to his question, just continuing to pump his dick almost mindlessly. He’s cursing out into the air, trying to speak but falling short every time you squeeze his tip. His body is shaking and his thighs and cock twitch with every movement. He leans back on his elbows, still gripping the sheets as he tries to twist his body away from your torturous hand. He even tries to buck his hips up harshly in hopes the power of it throws you off him. But, it only increases the onslaught of pleasure and now he can’t stop fucking your hand.

His hands need something to grab onto. Anything. He just needs something to stabilize himself. His hands are restless as they try to grab onto your skin, trying to find somewhere to help it feel less intense. The sheets aren’t much help, even when his knuckles are white and twisting them.

“There you go. That’s it. Good job, Miggy. Just keep doing that.” You coo down to him, your free hand coming to rest against his lower stomach to stabilize yourself against his thrusts. 

“Shut. Up.” Miguel whines pathetically in response. He’s so close, he can feel the funny feeling, no, the hurting feeling, peaking again. 

When he cums this time, he yells. His hips continue fucking your hand and he shuts his eyes tight as his body twitches with each stream of thick liquid. He’s breathing so heavily that it overpowers his rapid heartbeat. He’s a whining, pathetic mess under you as he tries to gather up all the pieces of his shattered brain. He’s so pretty with tears threatening to spill from his eyes. So pretty, that you can’t help needing to see him be undone one more time. One last time. 

The tears fall from his eyes when you move your hand rapidly once again. He’s yelling and whining as he really, really tries to get away. “Stop! Stop, stop, stop! Fuck! Too much..hurts.”

He can’t really do anything though, his body is sluggish from his last orgasm and all his previous attempts to get you to stop were in vain. He quite literally can’t do anything but take it as he cries and sobs. It’s too much. Hurts too badly. 

“One more. I promise one more and I’ll stop. Be a good boy and give me one more.” You whisper in his ear.

He can only whine. He knows he isn’t going to last long, not when he already came two times and the overstimulation makes him feel everything. Everything down to the way your breath spreads goosebumps on his skin and how he can feel the veins of his cock pulsate. He can only throw his arm over his eyes as he lets his mouth stay open in whines and pleads.

Too much, s-stop. Hurts- please, it hurts. Hurts. Too much. Please, fuck! Please, please, please. 

He keeps chanting those words over and over again. They sound weak and stupid coming out of his mouth as he tries to not pass out from how overwhelming everything is. He only sobs in relief when he feels the tightening of his balls again. When he practically feels his cum travel from them and up to his tip. He pushes his hips, and you, up on shaky legs as he releases. He sobs harder when your warm mouth surrounds his tip so you can swallow his cum. 

He whines loudly as his hips lazily rock into your mouth as you suck him gently before pulling off of him when you finish drinking your fill. When he feels your body completely disappear off of him, he slowly removes his arm off his eyes and blinks sluggishly as his eyes adjust to the light again. He’s barely breathing when your face appears above his. You smile softly down at him and reach your hand up to caress his face. 

He lets out a broken hum, shakily removing your hand from his face with a gentle: “Don’t. Too sensitive right now.”

His body is still jolting and twitching randomly, trying to get his body back to a non-broken state. You hum in understanding, sitting patiently besides him until the hyper awareness of his body disappears. When it fades, you hand him the water bottle he keeps at his desk and give him a kiss. He hums in appreciation as he drinks from it and sits back up. 

Your hands come back to caress his jaw, giving it a soft kiss. “What do you say for making the funny feeling go away?”

Your teasing question makes Miguel want to roll his eyes. But, he still moves his head to connect your lips together. “Thank you.”

He hopes that funny feeling comes back soon.

Can you tell how much more fun it is for me to write about submissive men :)).

[wallflowerwritesstuff]

You Chose: Rafayel

border credit goes to cafekitsune here on tumblr 🖤

Getting home had been surprisingly tame, the night passing without much issue. 

The morning, however, was the polar opposite, the pain causing you to remain in the same position despite how uncomfortable it had become. You powered up your phone, having allowed it to die last night after your shower without realizing. 

Then came the messages. 

Ding. 

Ding. 

Ding, Ding Di—

You snatch the phone from your bedside table with a whimper, finding that anger wasn’t appropriate when you could barely move. 

So, slowly, you unlock your phone and peer at your texts, responding to each in order until you get to the most recent from a contact that makes you snicker inwardly. 

-0-0-0-

hey

hey

hey 

hellllllloooooo? you aren’t ignoring my texts now are you miss bodyguard? 

have a good night. we can talk in the morning. 

its morning you know. i’ll come over if you keep ignoring me. i mean it!

alright. bet.

-0-0-0-

It only takes your read receipt popping up before you receive an incoming call from Catastrosea, your head rolling as you move onto your back. Rafayel’s voice comes through immediately, beginning with a soft gasp and click of his tongue. 

Ever the dramatic one. 

“At least you had the decency to pick my call up since you’ve been avoiding my texts,” he says, sounding offended, a small chuckle following the words. “Just kidding, I know you Hunters are always off being good samaritans or whatever. But you are still my bodyguard, you know. How am I meant to go to events without my trusty protector making sure little ol’ me is safe?” 

“Yeah, yeah,” you mumble, shutting your eyes again and breathing through the ache building in your temples. “Sorry.” 

Rafayel pauses on the other line. “Woah, you sound….” 

You can hear the ‘awful’ wanting to roll off his tongue, but instead, the sound of rustling is heard along with a soft ‘ow~’ and something falling. You perk up, on high alert until he mumbles about stepping on supplies, a small smile forming on your lips. 

You weren’t the only klutz, apparently. 

“You alright?” you whisper, earning a huff from the line. 

“Are you sure you’re in a position to ask me that? I nearly thought someone stole your phone with how you sound right now,” he says as you frown. 

“In bed,” you respond, not adding the and that’s where I’ll be for the next 3-5 business days for the sake of sparing him concern. 

“What a surprise for someone as active as yourself. Not feeling well?”

You hesitate to answer, the slight rustling sound seeming to remain constant as you chewed on your lower lip. “...just wanted a change of routine, I guess.” 

“Right,” he answered, not believing you for a second but not arguing. “On a scale from cat scratch to completely bodied, what state are you in right now?” 

You laugh, but then you suck in a breath and curl into yourself. “Guess.”

“Completely bodied from that pitiful little whimper of yours. I gotcha,” he says too calmly, and you wonder if he regrets calling right now. He had probably been having a rather decent afternoon considering how jovial he’d sounded, but now he was awfully quiet on the other line. His mood had to have soured, but you had a hard time imagining he cared so much about your life to have it affect his own. 

It was nice to imagine, at least.

Someone was knocking on your door like they wanted to tear it down. You hear a voice as you get closer, yawning as you tap on your door to see a screen pop up, revealing exactly who you thought it’d be, though he seemed to have brought company.

“Don’t scratch me or so help me, you little terror—!”

Your eyes light up as you open the door to meet a familiar pair of eyes. 

Rafayel, with a cat in hand, pauses the moment he sees you. There is a flash of something you don’t quite recognize coming from him, but then he sniffs and tilts his head. 

“Woof. You look even worse than you sound. It’s a great thing I’m here. I have a fantastic bedside manner.” 

You lean against the doorway, managing a small smile despite your vision feeling like it was beginning to double. “Really? Because most professionals wouldn’t bark at their patients and say they look awful,” you reply, the cat jumping out of his arms to circle your ankles, purring gently. You feel your spirits lift ever so slightly, leaning down slowly as the cat sniffs your hand before shoving their head beneath it as if asking for your touch. “Just a bit of advice from someone with actual bedside manner.” 

Rafayel brought a hand up to his chin, staring up at the ceiling before nodding once. “Hm, advice accepted, but as for that second part, I’d like to think someone with a bedside manner would know better than to bring me a singular apple when I end up hospitalized,” he sighs, staring down with a mischievous glint. 

“It was the last and best apple!” you defend, feeling a bit of spirit return at the fact you had to constantly defend your poor apple—especially considering he had still eaten it! 

“Yes, yes, I thank it for its sacrifice,” he brushes off with the wave of a hand, leaning down to match your level. “You seem more happy to see the walking weapon than you do me. How rude,” he mumbles into his knees as you snort. 

“Haven’t you ever heard of therapy dogs? Well, cats have the same effect,” you insist.

He follows you when you attempt to stand, reaching out when you stumble with a small wince. Your lip stings when you come to, the realization you have sunken your teeth into it making him tense. 

“‘M fine,” you murmur, but when you turn and nearly trip over your own feet, you hear him whisper something under his breath before feeling something warm against your back. “When did you…?” you ask in confusion, brow furrowing before smoothening out when the small action caused a sharp pain to shoot across from one temple to the other. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Rafayel mimics from your earlier conversation, voice right beside your ear. The frown on his lips deepens as he looks around your apartment, searching. “Looks like I came at just the right time, miss bodyguard. I’m going to lift you, so brace yourself.”

Surprisingly, he actually gives you time to do so, and so you turn enough to grip the front of his shirt as the world goes blurry again despite his slow speed. 

Maybe that head injury of yours was worse than you thought. You had been cleared and even waited to sleep as you were told, but a check-up may not be the worst idea. You did tell yourself you would go to the hospital if anything got worse. 

A hand touches your forehead, and it’s then you realize you are lying on your couch, Rafayel sitting on the floor beside you with an unreadable expression. It felt familiar in a way, though when he caught you staring, he smiled and tilted his head. 

“Admiring me only when you have a head injury? Should I be offended?” 

“You should be quiet,” you say, lacking the heat that would have made such a demand an insult. 

“Oh? I could always leave, but the terror would have to come with me,” he points out, moving to stand as you shoot up to grab him, whimpering as your head and body form an alliance to try and send you back into blissful unconsciousness. 

“Gosh, no need to hurt yourself over a joke. I wouldn’t take them with me,” he teases, but his smile has become somewhat forced as he helps you return to your previous position. You want to say that you would want them both to stay, but the words jumble in your brain as he speaks again. “Stay here, will you? I have the feeling you won’t be conscious long if you keep moving so suddenly like that.” 

The rest of the day is somewhat of a blur, you coming to in the early evening when the medicine finally kicks in. You open your eyes, your sight still dark until you remove the damp towel from your face. There is a soft purring on your belly, your hand moving to pet the sleeping cat gently. The lights are all off, and Rafayel sitting on the floor where you’d seen him earlier. He had some pieces of paper in front of him, a pencil tucked behind his ear as he pursed his lips. 

Not wanting to disturb him, you watch quietly, every scratch of charcoal against paper paired with the soft rumbles of the cat’s snores managing to lull you back to sleep. 

Before you could sink completely, you whisper a small thank you, not seeing the expression on Rafayel’s face grow conflicted, a mixture of frustration and concern unable to be hidden behind jokes and smiles. 

“I don’t want your thanks, I want you to be more careful,” he mutters, the words falling on deaf ears, floating into the air before fading entirely. 

When you wake, it’s the next morning and there’s a note on your coffee table along with a cute cartoon sketch of Rafayel crying and holding his hand while the orange cat licks his paw. 

Thomas threw a fit about me disappearing. We'll be back. I won't make you wait. Promise.

-R

Want to explore some of the other routes?

Click here to return to the main post for a refresher.

Or, pick your other favorite love interest below:

Xavier

Zayne

Rafayel

Sylus

[blueicequeen19]

Who’s It Going to Be?

Warnings: non-con, forced oral, dry humping, cum play

I gasp as Rafe’s fingers tighten around the column of my throat. I couldn’t scream or fight him. He was so much taller and stronger than me with a murderous look in his eyes as he searched my face for answers that I couldn’t give him.

“Don’t lie to me.” Rafe hisses, slamming my back against the wall of apartment and making the pictures on the wall rattle.

“I want to know where your sister is and you’re going to fucking tell me.” Rafe snarls, loosening his bruising grip long enough for me to suck in a painful breath. I open my mouth but he cuts me off, squeezing my windpipe again.

“She owes me a lot of money. A lot. So I’m not dumb enough to think she’s actually still on the island so where did she go to?” Rafe snaps, pressing his body so hard against mine that I could feel every hard outline of him. Especially how hard his cock was straining in his shorts.

“I’m—not—telling—you—shit.” I bite out, my eyes filling with tears from the pain of his hold and lack of air. Rafe’s gaze darkens further as he glares back at me before letting his blue eyes trail down my body like I was a fucking bag of coke. That was the problem. Rafe was my sisters dealer and she stole from him.

“I guess I could offer you up to the cartel as payment instead. Your sister mentioned you being a stuck up little virgin. People pay big money for that.” It felt like someone had dumped a bucket of cold water on me. Fear sunk into my bones and I started to tremble, the tears starting to flow.

“Or I could keep you for myself. Make you earn back every fucking dollar she took from me.” Rafe licks his lips, reaching down to palm one of my breasts over my sleep shirt. I whimper, trying to swallow against the palm of his hand.

“What will it be? You? Or your sister?” Rafe snaps, finally moving his hungry graze back to my face. My bottom lip quivers as Rafe leans down and nips it with his teeth, gently sucking the flesh into his mouth before releasing it. I try to turn away but i can’t. I couldn’t call the cops without them involving my sister. It would only make things worse. I was screwed.

“I’m curious how those lips would look around my cock.” Rafe rasps, reaching down to adjust himself before lowering his zipper.

“I bet you’ve never sucked dick before. Let me show you.” Rafe pushes me to my knees and I sniffle, coming face to face with his massive erection.

“Rafe, I-I can’t.” I cry, leaning away as his tip weeps precum.

“Sure you can. Surely a little thief can suck a dick.” Rafe fists my hair with one hand and slaps his cock against my lips with the other. I squeeze my lips shut and he paints them with his precum with a satisfied smirk on his face.

“Come on. Open up. I want to hear you choke.” Rafe rasps, slapping his cock against my lips again. He yanks hard on my hair, making me cry out so he can quickly shove himself down my throat. I immediately struggle and gag, trying to push away but he doesn’t let me; pinning me between him and the wall.

“Ah ah, watch those teeth. Relax your throat. You bite me and I’ll pop that ripe little cherry.” I slump in defeat, relaxing my throat and gagging as he starts to use my throat for his own pleasure.

“Oh fuck. That’s good. You’re doing so good. You might even be better at this then your sister.” Rafe groans, making me glare up at him. I can’t stop gagging but every time I think I’ll lose it, he pulls out just enough for the reflex to go away.

My eyes widen as his cock starts to throb and swell in my mouth. I’ve never given a blowjob let alone swallow someone’s cum. Just as I’m starting to panic, Rafe yanks free and yanks me to my feet, spinning me around and shoving my front against the wall.

“Rafe! Wait! Wait!” I cry as he yanks my sleep shirt over my shoulders and tears my panties down my legs. My legs nearly buckle as he presses against me, fitting his length perfectly between my cheeks and thrusting just as hard as he had in my throat.

“Fuck, it would take nothing for me to slip just a little lower and claim one of these little holes.” Rafe moans, plastering himself to my back as he dry humps me. Desire like I’d never felt before flooded my veins creating a painful throb between my legs.

“Would you like that? You wanna be my personal little fuck toy? You’re pretty when you cry.” Rafe nuzzles my neck, kissing and biting as he thrusts harder with pleasure filled grunts.

“No.” I hiss, just as his body slams harder against mine until he stills, his warmth shooting up my back and running back down the crack of my ass with a heavy sigh.

“You’re awfully wet for someone saying no.” Rafe growls, suddenly sliding two fingers through my slit. I jerk against him, zaps of pleasure shooting through me as he circles my clit. It takes me a moment to realize what he’s doing.

“Stop.” I bite out, trying to move out of his grasp.

“I’m just marking my territory. I want you to be covered and full of my cum one way or another.” Rafe growls, suddenly thrusting a cum coated finger into me. I gasp, trying to pull my hips away from him but he doesn’t loosen his hold on me. Next his finger finds its way into my ass and I cry out, the sensation foreign and unexpected.

“Stop it. I hate you.” I snarl, feeling him smile against my neck before biting me hard. A sob escapes as he sucks the tender flesh, marking me further.

“From here on out, I own you. You don’t talk to anyone else or go anywhere without my permission. I’ll fucking know and you won’t like what happens.” Rafe presses against my clit again and I jerk, hating the way my body is reacting to him. Rafe fists my hair, yanking back on the strands and capturing my lips in a bruising kiss, sealing my fate.

[icedragonlizard]

I might get torn apart for posting this, but imo it must be said.

To make it crystal clear, I don't excuse Susie's actions in Planet Robobot. But I don't excuse Taranza's actions in Triple Deluxe either.

I think people in the Kirby fandom infantilize Taranza way too much.

I am not joking when I say that I've seen people go as far as to say that he was "never a villain in the first place". That he's "innocent".

I'm sorry, but that's just flat out wrong. He was objectively the villain during Triple Deluxe. "He was just following orders!" is not proof of innocence when he was following the orders of a dictator. Taranza was a dictator-enabler. A dictator's right-hand man. That's not innocent. He lowkey kidnapped people in the name of this dictator.

Who knows what he could've done off-screen during the game while dragging Dedede around with him... probably could've tormented a lot of unshown Floralians while Kirby was trying to stop the takeover.

I also believe that Taranza loved playing the villain. He looks incredibly smug while dragging Dedede around and provoking bosses into fighting Kirby. Not to mention the very things that he says in his monologue right before he uses Dedede like a puppet to fight Kirby.

.... So much for the claims of "never a villain in the first place".

I very much believe he's reformed (Susie too, tbh) but I wish people would stop totally erasing his actions and pretending he did no bad.

This is not meant to demonize Taranza in any way. It's just... I absolutely hate that people treat him like a poor little innocent baby while simultaneously treating Susie like an irredeemable, unforgivable monster. They committed very similar crimes, but somehow get treated like they're opposite ends of the spectrum morality-wise.

Now, when comparing them, Susie is indeed the worse of the two overall, because her actions were done on multiple planets vs. one country. But that doesn't change the fact that it's still hypocritical to treat one of them like they're innocent while demonizing the other.

Regardless of the different scales of their crimes, they're both ultimately just second-in-commands to corrupt higher-ups that then helped give Kirby something to fight the final boss when it mattered.

I like to think that Taranza and Susie are both rather morally grey people with good and bad qualities. To me, they're friends with Kirby now, but they still have flaws despite not being as bad as they were before. I'd put Magolor on the same boat alongside with them too.

Taranza can both have grief and still have flaws. And I think Susie 100% has had grief for her dad too, even if she's less open about it.

One of the reasons why Susie discourse is so aggravating is because people simultaneously downplay and infantilize other villains, especially Taranza. People are hypocrites. I bet people wouldn't give a crap if Taranza or Magolor were to turn Meta Knight into a robot.

I get why the colonization and capitalism themes for both Susie and Planet Robobot as a whole can strike a nerve to some people and elicit discomfort, but I don't really think that warrants a massive and unfair discrepancy to how she gets treated compared to the others.

While I can get why those themes can make some people not like her as much as others, I don't think it makes it fair to treat her like an unforgivable demon because her villainy happens to be more real.

Just because the others are less real doesn't mean they're innocent.

The double standards suck.

[its-all-papaya]

do you have any clingy/possessive landoscar thoughts? 🤔

Yes. I do have thoughts. Thank you for asking.

tell me what you wish I'd write

I am… obsessed with clingy needy Lando. And I don’t write him suuuuper that way a lot, I usually try and rein him in, but if you want me to be self-indulgent, I can and will.

snippet at the end!

update: second bonus snippet here

Lando basically always wants Oscar. His attention, his laughter, his hands, his everything. All of it. All the time. Lando’s always been like that with the people he cares about. Max F, Carlos, everybody he’s ever dated… He knows he’s needy. He can usually keep a pretty good handle on things, though (he’s had a lot of practice). But sometimes, when his guard is down or when things are bad, his control over it slips a bit. And with Oscar, it’s like it’s ten times worse.

Even before they were properly close, Lando would get drunk and start asking after Oscar. His teammate was never out with them, but Lando would have his eighth drink in the club, or he’d do some lines with Max, or whatever, and it would be “I wish Oscar was here” and “can you call Oscar and ask if he’ll meet us?” and “I bet Oscar’s still awake, should I text him?” Extremely noticeable. And some of Lando’s more casual friends would be kind of blindsided because - again - Lando’s really good at being normal about Oscar when he’s got his whole brain to work with. But it’s Saturday night in Monaco over winter break and he says “it’s morning in Australia, I can FaceTime Oscar, right?” and his friends are like “didn’t know it was like that, mate?”

(He does FaceTime Oscar, on his walk home when there’s nobody to stop him, smile dopey as soon as Oscar picks up. The sun is shining in the background and making Oscar kind of glow around the edges, and Lando says “you look like an angel” and Oscar laughs and that’s even worse, Jesus, “you’re so pretty, Oscar, did you know?” and Oscar had been in the middle of a workout, but he sucks on his water bottle and grins and lets Lando talk nonsensically at him for 15 straight minutes until he’s safe and locked into his apartment with a glass of water on his bedside table. “Put some paracetamol out for yourself in the morning, okay? And sleep tight, Lando.” “Thanks, angel.”)

The second season is really different. They’re much looser and Lando forgets more often that he’s supposed to be holding himself back, giving Oscar space. It’s stupid, he’s been doing it with everyone all his life, but it’s like Oscar wipes his mind blank, and he’s weaseling his way under his arm every other minute at the MTC, hooking a chin over his shoulder while they review data, following him into his driver’s room after practice and talking Oscar through his entire hour, every lap. Oscar never really tells him off, though. He just nods and smiles his quiet smile and drops odd comments when Lando lets his train of thought go a little too far off track.

Getting closer with Oscar is probably a mistake for at least one of them, because it’s like giving Lando’s brain permission to think about him even more. Oscar’s thread is always near the top when Lando opens WhatsApp, and tapping his number to call is too near to muscle memory for Lando to talk himself out of it when he’s drunk. More often than not when he’s out, the night begins and ends with Oscar - a “coming tn?" as Lando walks in and a blurry, giggly “‘lo, Osc,” through a dark front camera on his way out.

Oscar starts out with a hint of decorum. He’ll throw a shirt on before answering Lando’s call, flick the bedside lamp on, and prop his phone up so his face is mostly in frame. That lasts a few weeks, then he starts answering in the middle of whatever he’s already doing (like brushing his teeth, one memorable time, when Lando had insisted on counting up to 120 for him to make sure he did a satisfactory job) and in whatever state he’s already in. By China, Oscar’s answering from bed half the time, face barely discernible in the dark of the hotel room, mostly just mumbling “mhm” while Lando tells him all about what he’s gotten up to at the bars.

SNIPPET (kind of? this was a bullet point and then I realized I was typing actual prose so it’s a bit of a blend… bare with me… it was like 2am for me when this was cooked up…)

Oscar doesn’t come out after Miami. But he does - and he’d deny this to anybody except Lando himself, probably, and even then only when Lando’s too fucked up to remember it - stay up waiting for Lando’s call. He’d congratulated Lando in person multiple times at the track, but it doesn’t feel the same. It’s embarrassing to admit, but as much as he used to find Lando’s drunk calls a little inconvenient (though always distantly amusing) he’s grown quite attached to them somewhere along the line - the quiet intimacy, the little jokes and admissions and compliments Lando hands out when he’s far gone and using Oscar to bring himself down. Lando doesn’t call anybody else like that (Oscar had asked him once, when he was waiting for his Uber in some city or another at half two in the morning). It’s just for them - a special them. 

It gets late, though. Lando always rings late, but it gets late enough that Oscar starts worrying that Lando won’t call at all, that he’s taken someone home, or he’s passed out on someone’s couch, or he’s planning to be out so late it turns right over to early the next day instead. The sun is rising when his phone finally goes off. He’s dozed a bit on and off, the exhaustion of his own race winning out for minutes at a time, but he’s left his ringer on to make sure he doesn’t miss Lando. It’s a special occasion, yeah? He can’t be held accountable. He just doesn’t want to be the one responsible for bringing Lando down from his high inadvertently by shirking his cooldown call. 

Anyway, it’s past 4 a.m. when Oscar’s jolted from his half-daze by the notification, and he sees he’s missed a few texts ahead of time, asking if he’s awake. He hadn’t answered, obviously, but Lando’s calling anyway. Oscar’s too tired, brain too soft and amorphous, to decide how to feel about that at the moment.

“Morning, angel,” he says when he picks up. It’d started as a joke, as most of their little idiosyncrasies had, a reversal, but it’s probably not totally that anymore.

“Oscar,” Lando says. Oscar had expected him to be loud, still riding out his high, but he’s practically whispering. When Oscar finally musters up the will to check the screen, Lando’s in the dim dark somewhere. All quiet.

“Yeah, babe.” They don’t talk like this normally. It’s like these calls exist in a liminal space between their day-to-day lives now and whatever Oscar’s convinced they’re headed towards.

“It’s not morning,” Lando says. A light turns on off-screen.

“Not for you, maybe. I was asleep.” Oscar rubs at his eyes for effect, even though Lando’s not really looking at the phone. His eyes snap to the camera at that, though, and Oscar watches his face fall a little.

“I woke you?”

Oscar doesn’t give it long before he’s shushing Lando gently, “It’s alright. I’m glad you did, I want to hear about your night.”

Lando brightens back up. He’s not as drunk as Oscar expected, but he’s far enough from sober to be pretty suggestible, still, pretty easy with a smile.

He launches into a story about Max and some other names Oscar instantly forgets and a band Oscar’s never heard of, and - as the camera jostles with Lando’s efforts to pry his own shoes off - Oscar realizes he’s already back to his hotel room. 

When Lando hits a long enough pause in his rambling, Oscar says, “Hey, Lan, you want to get ready for bed? You should sleep a little.”

Lando’s nose wrinkles and his face takes on the petulant tilt Oscar is well-acquainted with after half a year of these late-night-early-morning calls.

“C’mon,” he encourages, “you’ll feel better tomorrow. I’ll help.”

Lando agrees, though he still looks a little sour about it, so Oscar talks him slowly through his nighttime routine between stretches of “Oh! Oscar! Max called Charles pretty five times, I think," and “Have you ever had a cherry bomb? Someone ordered me one.” Oscar helps him pick out a soft t-shirt to sleep in and reminds him to fill a glass with water for the bedside table and counts to 120 while Lando brushes his teeth, phone propped against the mirror. 

When everything’s sorted and Lando is sliding into bed, Oscar yawns and says, “Good to go?”

Unexpectedly, Lando’s eyes go big and kind of watery at that, and he picks the phone up from the covers and brings it close to his face so Oscar’s screen is mostly pout.

“You’re going?” Lando asks, and he sounds so forlorn that Oscar can feel his heart ache in his chest.

“Was going to,” Oscar confirms, even though it hurts a little, “You want me to stay?”

The light’s off, but Oscar can still see Lando hide his face in his pillow. It’s no surprise, then, when Lando’s, “Yeah. Please?” comes out muffled by the bulk of it.

Oscar softens to it. It was never a question.

“Okay,” he says, “you need me to talk? Or just stay on?”

“Stay on,” Lando says. His voice is back to normal, but it’s tiny, a little fragile. So different from the hours and hours leading up to this, Oscar thinks, contextualizing.

“Might fall asleep,” Oscar warns. His lamp’s back off, too, and with Lando safe and sound, Oscar’s bed feels cozier than ever.

“S’okay,” Lando says, “me too.”

“That’s good,” Oscar sets his phone next to him on the bed. Lando’s done the same, both screens matching black and gray, matching hotel ceilings just a few doors apart. “Goodnight, race winner.”

Lando’s laugh is mostly just a hard exhale, but it warms Oscar from the inside out just the same.

“Goodnight, angel.”

(I wrote another whole scene for this ask but this got kind of long already.... so if anybody would like to see it.... all it takes is one little ask... lmk.... xoxo)

[hyukasmiles]

frat boy txt who saw u from far away at a party and knew they had to have you

—Tomorrow x Together—

Description: This is just the older members. I will probs do Tae + Hyuka’s version

Fem Reader

Warnings: NSFW// virginity loss// unprotected sex// oral (f)// sex in public spaces// NOT PROOFREAD

—

•Yeonjun•

Frat Boy! Yeonjun is the WORST. And not in a funny way- no he’s horrible. The type to haze freshman pledges and dare drunk guys to jump off a five story building.

Frat Boy! Yeonjun who sees you slip into his house party behind your friends and pulls the first guy he can to the side, “I bet you a hundred dollars I’ll fuck her tonight.” The man laughs him off, telling him you’re a notorious prude. “You mean like she’s saving herself for marriage? Two hundred.”

Frat Boy! Yeonjun who slips his arm over your shoulder and gets to work. He spends the whole night complimenting you, handing you drink after drink, slowly dropping his hand down your body until it’s resting on your hips.

Frat Boy! Yeonjun who gets you halfway to his room before you start to push back on him. “Hold on- I’m saving myself.” You pout.

Frat Boy! Yeonjun who was prepared for this, pushing you up against the wall. “I thought we really hit it off babe… I was hoping to see you again after tonight… You don’t like me? Cause I like you.” He's saying so much to you and your brain is so fuzzy from all the drinks that you find yourself nodding along.

Frat Boy! Yeonjun who beams at you as you mumble., “You really like me?” He nods and leans in to leave a soft peck on your lips. “Sure thing, angel.” You bite your lip and lean against the wall. “Ok.”

Frat Boy! Yeonjun who wastes no time getting you in his bed, slipping your dress down your body as he pushes you into his mattress.

Frat Boy! Yeonjun who’s surprisingly loving. He kisses down your body, leaving little bites and hickeys in wake. You part your legs for him so easily and he fits in between them even easier.

Frat Boy! Yeonjun who doesn’t think to prep you. “This is still ok?” And when you nod he lines himself up and sinks in with a groan. You suck in a breath at the stretch, eyes watering as you try your hardest not to whine. “You gotta relax, sweet thing.” He breaths while trying to shove the rest of him into your tight cunt.

Frat Boy! Yeonjun who almost cums when he finally bottoms out, which is weird- he’s never been sensitive like this. You look up at him with doey eyes, a mix of excitement and fear knits your eyebrows together and leaves your mouth agape.

Frat Boy! Yeonjun who fucks your goey cunt so good, makes you gush around him as he drills into you. “I’m gonna make you feel so good.” He breathes, lifting one of your legs up and resting it on his shoulder. “You’ll always compare guys to me after this right?” He leans in to kiss you on the cheek, stretching you open in the process. “I gotta be good then.”

Frat Boy! Yeonjun who does make you feel so good. He makes you feel- eyes roll back into your head, toes curling, drool slipping out of your mouth- good and you love it. And so does he.

Frat Boy! Yeonjun who cums inside of you because he knows you won’t tell him no, ready to go get his money and dump you off on one of your friends but then he takes a step back and looks at you sprawled out on his bed and part of him loves it. A large part.

•Soobin•

Frat Boy! Soobin who was just dumped and doesn’t want to be at this party because he knows his ex will be here, and he knows she’ll be all over some rando, and that she’ll make sure he sees her. But he comes any because the only thing worse than letting her do that is giving her the satisfaction of winning.

Frat Boy! Soobin who has a plan. He just needs to find some hot girl to attach to for the night, give his ex a taste of her own medicine, and when he sees you walk in he knows it’s going to be you. You’re perfect, way prettier than his ex and more importantly, her friend.

Frat Boy! Soobin who walks up to you, grabs you by the wrist, and pulls you into the less crowded backyard. “What are you doing, Soobin?” You laugh and the sound is so pretty he almost forgets what he’s trying to do. He can see his ex in his peripheral vision, sitting on one of his classmates' laps. “I need your help.” He mumbles, grabbing your hips and pulling you toward him. “You gotta act like you’re really into me.” He leaves a ghost of a kiss on the corner of your mouth. “My girlfriend broke up with me, I wanna make her jealous.”

Frat Boy! Soobin who’s surprised when you wrap your arms around his neck, sure you we're going to push him away by now. “She’s a major bitch.” You laugh, “Y’know what will really get her? Eat me out in the bathroom, I’ll make sure she sees.”

Frat Boy! Soobin who agrees to it. No questions asked. He actually pulls you toward the bathroom. He doesn’t care how you’re going to show her, he just wants it to happen.

Frat Boy! Soobin who pushes you against the wall tile and sinks to his knee. He pushes your skirt up your body and actually licks his lips when he sees the wet patch forming your underwear. He kisses your clit through the pink cotton and then slips them down to your knees, hard in his pants as he dives in.

Frat Boy! Soobin who is great at eating pussy, sucks on your clit and draws light circles on your opening. He has your legs shaking as you grab your phone, snapping a couple pictures of him and sending them off to his bitch of an ex. By the time they’re delivered your knees are starting to buckles. You twist to grab onto the sink next you, moaning as he laps at your cunt.

Frat Boy! Soobin who hears the bathroom door fling open, and his ex yelling at him but he can’t stop, he wants you to cum. He feels something hit his back and the door slams and all he does is grab onto your legs to keep you up right. Your thankful for the extra support, you cannot believe his ex broke up with someone this good at head.

Frat Boy! Soobin who sinks two fingers into you and whines when you pull at his hair in response. “You’re so good at this!” You whine, hunching over as he gets you closer and closer. “So good.”

Frat Boy! Soobin who whines at your words, sending shocks of pleasure up your body, finally pushing you over the edge. “She saw?” He mumbles, knowing the answer just not wanting to leave. “You’re sure?” He kisses your thigh when you nod, still out of breath.

Frat Boy! Soobin who moves to stand up but you push down on his head while he does. He looks up at you confused- but then you spread your legs a little wider and mumble “better we’re both sure.” and he’s back in your cunt before you can finish speaking.

•Beomgyu•

Frat Boy! Beomgyu who is loud and always doing something stupid. Unless of course you’re at the party, then he’s loud and glued to your side. “Hey baby.” He’s so excited to see you, wrapping you up in a hug. “Did you finish studying?” All his friends sigh and leave, knowing how this will end.

Frat Boy! Beomgyu who any other night would be taking bets on whether or not he can do a keg stand, but when you take time from studying to come to a party his whole world becomes about you. “Are you tired? Do you wanna leave?” He mumbles, kissing you softly. “I know you have that test tomorrow.” You just smile and pull him in for another kiss. “I’m ok, baby, I’m here to party, you don’t need to do all of this.” You say the same thing every time but he can’t help it.

Frat Boy! Beomgyu whose behavior is such a 180 that the freshman boys start asking him if he’s got a headache or something. “No, I just miss my girl.”

Frat Boy! Beomgyu who is usually the last person to leave parties, most of the time he stays over whatever pledges house it is, but when you’re stood in front of him looking so pretty all he wants to do is go back to your dorm and fuck you. He makes it well known too, grabbing your hand and pressing it against his hard on multiple times throughout the night.

Frat Boy! Beomgyu who can only wait so long, pulling you into a dark corner of the empty laundry room. “I gotta fuck you baby.” He whines, picking you up and setting you on the washer. “I know.” You reply, spreading your legs for him.

Frat Boy! Beomgyu who always fucks best like this, rushed and as quiet as possible, even if it’s impossible for him to be quiet. His thrusts are deep and strong, broken whines spilling out of your mouth as he plays with your puffy clit. He goes as far as to press a hand over your mouth even if he’s the one who’s making all the noise.

Frat Boy! Beomgyu who gives you a mind shattering orgasm and goes back to the party like nothing happened. Except now he’s pumped up, going back to being as loud as usual, grabbing the first person he sees and betting them he can shotgun a beer faster. All while you sit crumpled on the couch trying to ignore the cum dripping down your thigh.

—-

Inbox always open 🫶

[sashaisready]

This Must Be The Place: Chapter 17 - You got a face with a view

Biker!Bucky x Femme Reader

Back at your beloved late grandmother's home to pack up her house, you have a run-in with the town's biker gang 'The Howling Commandos' and find yourself entangled with the metal armed President.

Series Masterlist

Warnings: None, bit angsty

This is a Bucky POV! Bit of a shorter chapter but I thought it might be nice to get some of his insight before we hurtle towards the finish line…

Just to let you know I’m going on vacation early next week for a week, so I’m not sure when the next update will be – so please bear with me! If I don’t manage before, I will post once I’m back w/c 8th July. As always, your reblogs and comments mean the world – thank-you for coming along for the ride!

Bucky sighed heavily as he watched your car become a small dot on the horizon. He couldn’t believe he had found you out here, he was only passing through after dealing with some MC business on the edge of town. What were the chances it would be him to find you, of all the people who drove by this way?

He had been confused to see a car parked up in the middle of nowhere, miles from anything, only to feel bile rising in his throat when he recognised that distinct Mustang.

He thought something might have happened to you, relief crashing over him in waves when he saw your bewildered face staring back at him through the window. He managed to maintain his composure even when he saw the beginnings of a bruise on your cheek, despite the rage that simmered in his body. But he could see you were upset, maybe even a little scared, so he managed to push his own feelings aside. He didn’t want to distress you any further, but had a strong idea of who might have led you into this precarious position...

You wouldn’t let him help you. He had half expected it, but he still scoffed that you’d rather stay out here alone than take what was being offered. But…he also kinda got it. He was stubborn too. He understood that you didn’t want to be vulnerable in front of him, didn’t want him to think everything between you would now be forgiven.

He didn’t push you. He knew you well enough to understand that badgering you would only strengthen your resolve to stay put.

He just wanted you to be safe.

It didn’t even occur to him to leave. That was never a possibility. He did consider calling the guys and arranging a tow for your car, or for a ride for you, but he thought you might not want him meddling without asking. And he knew you wouldn’t want your car taken back to his auto shop, wouldn’t want another link to him – and you might think he’d done it on purpose to get you to talk to him.

Fixing Sally at roadside was his best bet. Then you would be alright but could still leave on your own accord. He’d tell Steve to bring his toolbox and he’d try his luck with you in the morning. Maybe Steve could throw in some food and water, too. You’d need it after sleeping in a car all night.

He had grimaced about his bed (or lack thereof) for the evening, but he’d done worse. It was one night. And it was worth it for watching over you and keeping you safe.

He wasn’t worried about passersby or getting jumped, his reputation preceded him enough that nobody within a 100-mile radius would dare even approach him if they saw him here.

It had sucked. It had been shit. He probably got two or three hours' sleep, max, but he’d done it. And as you gawped at him the next day, still beautiful in the morning light even though you were bruised and dishevelled, he knew it had all been worth it. And it had warmed him slightly that he’d caught a glimpse of awe in your eyes when you realised what he’d done for you.

Every part of him wanted to follow you as you got back into the car, to tell you how he really felt and how deep his feelings really were. Your casual relationship was never just casual to him. He had fallen for you, hard, maybe since day one. He had tried to fight it, tried to remind himself that it always had an expiration date and he shouldn't fall too deep... but being with you was the most natural thing in the world to him. Watching you smile at the bar, stolen glances across the room, waking up with you in his arms…they were some of the happiest days of his life.

That was partly why he was so upset when he thought you’d stolen, it had broken his heart as well as his trust. He’d always had a problem with impulsivity, with flying off the handle, giving into urges and emotions without thinking it through. Maybe part of him wanted to sabotage what the two of you had so it would be easier when you eventually left him. He had a few ideas like that, but still didn't fully understand why he did it. But he knew for certain, checking that purse was the biggest mistaken he’d ever made. He had to live with that. He understood that.

But maybe he should tell you all this. What did he have to lose, really? You were leaving, anyway. Once that house was on the market it was game over. It would be snatched up quickly, and then you’d be gone from this town, and his life, forever. At least he’d know if he’d done everything he could, he wouldn’t be an old man on his porch years later wistfully wondering if things could’ve been different had he told you the truth.

No. That wasn’t fair. To truly love you means respecting your wishes, and letting you go. Even if it hurts every fibre of his being to do so. Even if he’s desperate to grab you and kiss you every time he’s in close proximity to you. It would be selfish of him to dump his feelings on you like that. If he’d learnt anything from the misery of the last few months, it was that he needed to put you first – even if it wasn’t what he wanted.

He could live with the pain. He’d managed it so far. He had suffered and he would continue to suffer. This was his punishment, for not trusting you, for not believing you. It would follow him to his grave.

There had been nobody else since. No Amber. None of the girls at the bar. Sure, he’d had offers, but he simply wasn’t interested. They’d only remind him that they weren’t you.

When he heard about Quill, it felt like he'd taken a bullet to the gut. Actually, it felt worse than that. Bucky had been shot a couple of times and he'd happily take another bullet over that specific brand of pain. It was more painful than when he lost his arm. He nearly vomited on the spot when Steve told him. Since then, he had been a shadow of his former self, even if he (mostly) put on a good front to continue his role as President.

None of it mattered. You were selling up and moving on, and all that was left to do was let you go. You can’t keep a bird in a cage just because you don’t want to lose it. Keeping something that doesn’t want to be kept means you never really had it in the first place.

He had told you he wouldn’t touch Quill, but he seethed inwardly as he thought about the unsightly bruise and how it got there. How you ended up in your heels and evening dress at the side of the road. You had warned him not to do anything, and he wouldn’t. He respected your wishes. But once you’d gone? Well. That might be a different story. He already knew where Quill worked. Where he lived. Where he hung out. Who his friends were. The statute of limitations on Bucky’s promise to you would run out the day you left him forever.

He cranked his aching neck and pumped his metal arm back in place as he got back on his bike. Life must go on.

But he had one thing left to do.

[starsurface]

Can you do a sad little space reader who is being comforted by a care giver Liu Kang? (Mk1) just a smol bb having a rough day and needing some special attention.

Hi! Omg yes of course I'm so sorry for how late this is!!!

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

CG Liu Kang MK1 w/ Sad Regressor Hcs

🌟 Liu Kang is very observant, even with his busy duties as God

🌟 He notices your demeter slowly change throughout the day, and how every little action irritating you

🌟 If your training, he takes notice of all the fights your loosing (All rigged, you claimed)

🌟 Or how you dropped your bowl during lunch and got lectured at for ‘wasting’ food 

🌟 Or falling into that puddle he told you to lookout for and getting all muddy >:(

🌟 Or sometimes, you just have a bad day

🌟 Everything feels off and icky sand there’s no real reason, it just is, and it sucks

🌟 And even worse no matter the senerio, he can’t get to you!!! The monks need him for this, and Johnny and Kenshi got into another fight, and he had to stop Kung lao from a bet, and he still has some paperwork he needs to do-

🌟 It makes him upset as well, being unable to reach you

🌟 He’ll send someone to check up on you throughout the day, just to make sure your okay or provide you company

🌟 If you feel little before he gets there, he'll send one of his Earthrealmer Warriors (probably Raiden or Kung Lao)

🌟 However if you just want some alone time, his room is always open

🌟 Don’t you worry, he’s RUNNING once all his paperwork is done (Geras can do the rest!! :D)

🌟 If you slip on spot by seeing him, or when your trying to angirly rant about your bad day, he'll pick you up and place you on his lap

🌟 Whether it's so sob into his chest or cross your arms and huff, he's very patient with you

🌟 If words are too hard, he'll let you angrily babble to him about anything you want!!

🌟 Nodding along, agreeing with everything you say, because of course your right

🌟 Crying or angry, he'll kiss your forehead and tell you that everythings okay now

🌟 He’s very soft with you, carrying you on his hip and giving you soft kisses whenever he can

🌟 Cuddles and comfort are in session after such a silly day! >:(

🌟 He'll even give you a bubble bath to help you feel less icky!! With as many bath toys (and maybe some of Johnny's) that he can find!! And he miiiight just add in some extra bubbles

🌟 Rest day equals comfy outfits, so he'll let you wear whatever you want!! (Even his own headband! . . . Do please give it back later though)

🌟 He's very kind of you start randomly crying or getting fussy quickly

🌟 A little bit of little time might not cure the full day, but he'll do what he can to make sure his baby's okay now

🌟 He'll even spoon feed you dinner!! Airplane and all!! Anything to make his baby laugh again

🌟 . . . He'll even give you extra dessert or extended bedtime

🌟 ^ And of course a bunch of cuddles and affection

🌟 . . . The extra paperwork Geras refused to do is worth every moment making sure your okay <3

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

Sorry again for ghosting y'all!! I got really into Resident Evil (still haven't completed the 1st game, smh), and then I got super into DC!! But I'm working on Hcs I swear!!!

[holylulusworld]

Indecent Proposal (24)

Summary: Your boyfriend wants to be part of their empire. You are the pawn he’s willing to sacrifice.

Pairing: Mobster!Stucky x fem!Reader

Characters: Jake Jensen

Warnings: established Stucky, caring mobsters, pregnant reader, polyamory, fluff, angst, a little silliness, sweet Jake

A/N: This is a reader-centered chapter. We learn what the reader did while Steve & Bucky were away.

Indecent Proposal (23)

Indecent Proposal masterlist

10 hours earlier, shortly after Bucky and Steve left, …

“What if you type on your laptop to find them?” You decided to take matters into your own hands and bug Jensen. He refused to tell you your husbands’ location, but this didn’t mean you cannot get on his nerves until he gives you more than another excuse.

“I told you that their location is top secret. If I say one word, they will kill me, or worse,” you cocked a brow.

“What’s worse than getting killed?” You asked. “I don’t think there are worse things they could do to you. Why do you fear them so much?”

“Oh, my sweet summer child,” Jensen waited a lifetime to use the quote from George R.R. Martin’s novel. He grinned proudly when you wrinkled your forehead. “You have no clue what they could do to me for even talking to you.”

“They are cuddly bears,” you huffed and sat on a chair next to Jensen. “I’m worried and bored. It's a deadly combination. They don’t want me to leave the mansion, and there is nothing to do but watch TV or read. But I can’t focus on shit.”

“Do you want to play a game? I can get you any game you want for free,” Jensen tried to distract you for a little while.

“What kind of games?”

“How about we play a roleplay or…wait…yes!” Jensen typed away on his laptop. “I got it. You’ll love the game. Give me a minute and we can play together.”

Jensen handed you a controller and switched one of the huge monitors on the wall on.

You didn’t want to play stupid games but agreed to distract yourself from overthinking things again.

“What is the game about?”

“Zombies,” he grinned and sat back down. “Uh-I hope you can stomach a little bit of blood and stuff.”

“Sure—” you sucked in a breath. “I mean…I’m not sure. If I puke it’s your fault.”

“I’ll take the blame then,” Jensen started the game. He explained the ropes to you before he let you choose a character. “We can play together. Stay behind my character in the beginning. He’s a killer dude!”

“Got it,” you looked at the controller to recall everything Jensen said. The first thing you did was walk straight into a group of zombies. Jensen did much better. He saved your character and killed all the zombies.

“Awesome, I found a magnum,” he did a little dance before guiding his character and yours inside an abandoned house. “We are safe here for now. In later chapters, you will get attacked.”

“You know the game well,” you said while fighting with the controller. “Do you play it often?”

“I made it,” he smirked. “Do not fret, my lady. I will bring you to safety.”

“You made it?”

“I designed it,” he shrugged when you gaped at him. “I always wanted to become a game designer.”

“That’s cool! I bet you made a shit-ton of money with the game. The characters look so real!”

“Yeah, that’s what I dreamed of,” he said, eyes saddening at the memory. “Sadly, the company I sold the game to tried to fuck me over. I had no other choice but to hack into their system and steal my own game.”

“I’m sorry, Jensen.”

“Nah,” he shook his head and gave you a cracked smile. “This way only I know how to beat the game. You’re the first person I allowed to play it.”

“Thank you,” you patted his thigh. “You’re a nice guy.”

“Please don’t tell Bucky and Steve so. I’m a dangerous criminal, remember?”

“Got it,” you whispered to not draw attention toward you and Jake. Your husbands’ men still guarded the doors. “You’re a bad guy. A mastermind and criminal. We all should fear you.”

“Uh-don’t overdo it. I don’t want them to end up killing me because I’m a danger to you…”

“Alpine! Come out, kitty,” you called Alpine’s name while looking for the cat. Another distraction was needed because Jake had to check on the security and watch the monitors. Something was happening outside the mansion, but you didn’t dare ask. “Alpine?”

Alpine meowed loudly. “There you are!” You grabbed the cat from its throne, Bucky’s old armchair at the library. “I was looking for you, punk.”

You giggled when the cat looked offended. “Aw, only Bucky can call you punk, huh? Well, he’s not here, so I’m going to call you punk.”

Alpine didn’t mind cuddles. The cat was looking for its owner, missing Bucky as much as you did. “Oh, wait! I know. Let’s brush your fur and get you a new collar.”

Carrying the cat inside the walk-in wardrobe to look for something to dress the cat you sighed. “I can’t get you a new collar, Alpine. Bucky said we must stay inside the mansion. But don't worry. I'll find a nice scarf or something for you.”

While Alpine got comfortable in your arms, you looked at the vanity, remembering Steve and Bucky gifted you more than one necklace.

“I know, punk. We will make you even prettier using my necklace…”

Part 24.2

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